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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26103049">Red Fox and Black Cat</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Styx88/pseuds/Styx88'>Styx88</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Torture, BAMF Cal Kestis, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Cat and Mouse, Enemies to... Something Else, F/M, Is it Love or Hate?, Madness, Obsessive Behavior, Or Rather Cat and Fox, Resolved Sexual Tension, The Dark Side of the Force, Torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:49:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,503</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26103049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Styx88/pseuds/Styx88</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"You watch the boy run below you on the steep path. Illuminated by a furtive ray of sunlight that somehow managed to pierce through the thick layer of cloud, his red hair dances like a flame in the wind. It reminds you of the color of the wild foxes that lived on your home planet. You don't even remember what planet it is. You've forgotten. You don't care. The past is just a heavy burden from which you've gotten rid. The dark side has freed you from it."</p><p>What if, for once, it wasn't Cal the mad and dangerous Inquisitor chasing the Reader, but the opposite? You're a completely insane Inquisitor and you're hunting a new prey – a red-headed Jedi.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cal Kestis/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>131</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">

        <li>
          Translation into Français available: 
            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26361631">Chat noir et renard roux</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Styx88/pseuds/Styx88">Styx88</a>
        </li>

        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24200155">Always Red</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlwenWhiteTrack/pseuds/OlwenWhiteTrack">OlwenWhiteTrack</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I’m not going to lie. This fanfic is directly and highly inspired by "Always Red" from OlwenWhiteTrack. Think of it as a tribute to this wonderful fanfiction. Honestly, if you haven't read it yet, do so, it's really worth it!</p><p>I thank melrosethecat for the beta-reading.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You watch the boy run below you on the steep path. Illuminated by a furtive ray of sunlight that somehow managed to pierce through the thick layer of cloud, his red hair dances like a flame in the wind. It reminds you of the color of the wild foxes that lived on your home planet. You don't even remember what planet it is. You've forgotten. You don't care. The past is just a heavy burden from which you've gotten rid. The dark side has freed you from it.</p><p>You keep looking at the boy. He has just pulled a lightsaber out from under his coat – some kind of delightfully hideous poncho. Its azure-colored blade slices through his opponents' flesh like a hot knife through butter. The Second Sister was right; he is a Jedi – or rather, a kid playing at being a Jedi. He looks young, too young to have completed his training. It'll be easy. Not too easy, you hope – you'd love to face a bit of a challenge.</p><p>You sigh and take one last look at your clothes. You like to prepare your entrance, and a good outfit is always quite effective. You don't try to impress your prey, like that silly Second Sister with her ridiculous cape. No, you just want to terrify them. And what's better than a black suit to terrify your opponents? You lift the shiny black plasteel helmet you're holding in your hands and put it on your head. The mountainous Zeffo landscape extending before your eyes suddenly turns red – the red of the optical lenses in your helmet. Red as the blade of your lightsaber. Red as blood. Your favorite color.</p><p>You watch the redhead walk away. You don't want to attack him right away. No, you prefer to wait. You like to play with your prey. Take the time to watch them, stalk them. Leave them under the illusion that they've managed to shake off the Empire, that they're going to get away with it, and just when they least expect it, bam! You enter the scene, ruining all their hopes of escape, before capturing them or slaughtering them – you prefer the latter, the more fun option. It won't be any different this time. You're just wondering how long he'll last before surrendering. Your money's on five minutes.</p><p>You wait, perched at the top of the small, windy plateau on which you've landed your TIE Reaper – a model that's certainly imposing, but big enough to bring several prey at once. The black ship is well hidden, even from the most observant eyes, whereas you have a good view of all the surroundings. The boy will have to go back along the path below to get back to his ship. And when he does, you can move into action.</p><p>Time passes – one hour, two hours. It doesn't matter, you're patient. Three hours. You're starting to wonder if the boy has been killed by a stormtrooper. If he had, it'd be really disappointing – these good-for-nothings couldn't even kill a bantha in the hallway of a Star Destroyer if they saw one. Your black leather-gloved fingers start tapping nervously on the hilt of your double-bladed lightsaber hanging from your belt. You're beginning to lose your patience – a fact rare enough to warrant highlighting.</p><p>Suddenly, you see him. Ah, clever boy! Clever as a fox. He has found a path to bypass most of the troops stationed in the village by way of a ledge that you didn't even see. He won't go through the path below. It doesn't matter. You can still cut him off a little further down the road. You jump to the bottom of your platform. At last, the hunt has begun.</p><p>Fast and agile, you dash out onto the dirt track, taking care not to slip on the half-melted puddles of snow that glisten softly, as if to remind you of the imminent arrival of winter. The pebbles roll under your feet, raising a haze of light dust, but you keep running. The spectacular Zeffo landscape unfolds before your eyes, but you don't care. Only one thing matters now: catching your prey.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>After several minutes of running, you swiftly climb up a rock face to gain height and direction. You look for the redheaded – he shouldn't be far away. Ah, there he is! He's coming.</p><p>You follow him for a while from the heights, taking the time to observe him. He walks cautiously in the gulch below you, glancing around in fright, like an animal that senses danger without identifying its source. You must admit that you didn't try to hide your Force signature. You like it when your prey feels your presence, but doesn't see you yet. It adds a little spice to the game.</p><p>A little further on, you spot a place where the ravine widens a bit. That's perfect. The grey rocky ground is covered with patches of soft green grass dotted with a myriad of small orange mountain flowers. In the middle runs a brook. You see its waters bouncing in joyful little squirts against the stones, and you hear it gurgling merrily. In the past, you would have been captivated by the beauty of the place, ideal for a restful meditation. Now you see only its practical side – the place is narrow enough to catch prey in a trap and prevent it from fleeing and wide enough to allow a good fight.</p><p>You're just hesitating on one last point. Should you come from the front or the back? Which of these two options will have the greatest effect on your prey? You're finally opting for the first. You give favor to panache over surprise. You have to admit that you've always had a weakness for bold entrances.</p><p>Just when you've made up your mind, the boy comes in the middle of the flowers. Without waiting any longer, you elegantly sprint, jump and let's go! You land in the grass with the grace of a cat, just a few steps ahead of him. Panache.</p><p>He looks at you surprised and scared at the same time. He probably recognized your outfit – he knows with whom or what he's dealing. Even if he can't see it, you smile behind your helmet, pleased with the impact of your arrival. You quickly scan his freckled face. Yes, he's young – you think he's not even twenty yet. He's just a lost Padawan, a puppy without his master. You lower your estimate. He won't last more than three minutes – no, two. You take one step towards him before you open your mouth to mock him – one last little pleasure before a possible fight.</p><p>"Hi, Foxy boy!" you exclaim gleefully, even though the modulator of your helmet distorts your voice, making your joy hard to detect even for the most discerning ears. "Nice to meet you! Alright, I'm not gonna beat around the bush. Surrender or di—"</p><p>You don't have time to finish your sentence. The redhead, with his arms outstretched in your direction, sends a Force push that hits you right in the stomach, raising a cloud of dust. Breathlessly, you have to use the Force to anchor your feet in the ground and avoid recoiling on impact. You have to admit that you are surprised. You didn't expect him to attack you so quickly. Usually your prey lets you make your little speech before choosing to fight or surrender.</p><p>So, he chose to fight. You're thrilled. It's going to be even better than you hoped.</p><p>"Not bad, Foxy. Not bad at all," you admit, dusting off your shoulders disdainfully. "But I'm sure you can do better than that!"</p><p>You like to taunt your prey. It's so funny to see them lose their composure and get angry, while you remain phlegmatic and impassive. You pull out your double lightsaber and ignite one of its two blades. The icy wind whistling into the ravine rapidly disperses the steam that forms when your hot blade comes into contact with the cold, ambient air. The redhead looks at you and takes out his lightsaber too. His blue blade vibrates in the air like the promise of a good fight. The snow is starting to fall slowly.</p><p>The boy opts for a defensive stance. You give him a predatory smile. Yes, two minutes should be more than enough.</p><p>You start a dance, circling face to face, your lightsabers blazing in your hands, mutually observing and analyzing your gestures. There is something almost poetic in this head-to-head amidst flowers and snowflakes. Time seems to have frozen – the calm before the storm.</p><p>Then suddenly this dance becomes lethal. You throw yourself at him, your blade ready to strike. As you expected, he parries your first blow. Your two blades collide violently several times, sending sparks and snowflakes flying wildly all around you.</p><p>You carry on with your assault, but he manages to fend off each of your attacks. You frown and revise your judgment – seven minutes, maybe eight. He's tougher than you expected. You must admit that he defends himself pretty well – he's a fighter. He's got the instincts, but he lacks the experience. You're still the most powerful.</p><p>By dint of blows, you manage to get him back against the rock face. One last blow sends his lightsaber flying through the air. The hilt falls further into the brook. Your face is almost glued to his, and you can feel that his fear has turned to terror. You watch the beads of sweat running down his forehead, and you see his pupils widening. You delight in this moment – the moment when your prey realizes that it is going to die.</p><p>You move your head forward, and his cheek grazes the left side of your helmet. His body is pressed against yours; you feel him shiver.</p><p>"Any last wishes?" you whisper softly in his ear.</p><p>Suddenly, he leans his back against the wall behind him and, lifting his legs, he drives his two feet into your belly, pushing you backwards and making you fall to your knees in the stream. The icy water immediately soaks your pants, but you don't even realize it. You don't feel any of the physical sensations caused by the world around you. You only feel the anger that springs up in your chest, gradually replacing the phlegm with which you were filled. How dare he resist? He's the one who should be kneeling in front of you, not the other way around!</p><p>With a scream of rage, you rush at him, your lightsaber in hand, but he steps aside and manages to avoid you. He takes advantage of the fact that you are unbalanced to sneak up behind you. He then presses his right hand against your helmet and slams your head violently against the lichen-covered rock face.</p><p>Once.</p><p>Twice.</p><p>Three times.</p><p>The repeated knocks resonate painfully in your head as shards of lichen and rock break away from the wall. It's as if he's trying to demolish your skull. You drop your lightsaber when a brisk crack is heard – you don't know if it's your helmet or your nose that's broken. Both apparently.</p><p>He stops banging for a short while to catch his breath. Your helmet is still on your head, but the left optical lens has broken. You can feel the blood flowing from your nose. You look at the boy's face, half red, half normal color – because of the broken lens. It's distorted – you don't know if it's by fear or by anger.</p><p>He's about to hit again when his green gaze meets your yellow eye, and he stops his move. Time freezes as you look into each other's eyes, as if attracted to each other. It barely lasts a millisecond, but it's too late. And all of a sudden, without knowing why, you burst out laughing – a fucking bloodcurdling laugh that resonates against the rocky walls of the ravine, its echo making it even more insane than it already is.</p><p>Surprised by your reaction, the redhead panics and rushes back. He stumbles over a rock and falls on his butt into the water. Frightened, he gropes on the ground around him in search of his lightsaber, without being able to take his eyes off you. You keep laughing and can't stop. His hand finally chances upon his lightsaber. It's as if the feeling of cold metal against his fingertips makes him come to himself. He gets to his feet, turns around and runs away. Just before he leaves the ravine, he takes one last look in your direction, and then he disappears.</p><p>Your convulsive laughter gradually fades away. You painfully remove your damaged helmet and put your gloved hand over your chin. The black leather is stained with red blood. You watch the big scarlet drops fall into the grass at your feet, dirtying with their bright color the orange wild flowers – orange like his hair. You run your tongue over your teeth and lips to savor the metallic taste of your own blood.</p><p>Interesting. This is the first time someone's ever resisted you. You've been waiting for this moment for a long time, even though you wouldn't have bet a credit on this kid. You can't wait to capture him – at this point, just killing him would be a waste – so you can torture him. You dream of tearing out his red hair one by one, and making him scream in pain. You suddenly realize that you don't even know what his voice sounds like. He hasn't uttered a word during your entire confrontation. Even more interesting. Your prey usually talks to you, either to provoke you –- which rarely happens – or to beg you – which happens most of the time. You've already hunted down and slaughtered several Padawans and Jedi Knights – even a Master once. However, this is the first time you've been so intrigued by one of them.</p><p>You put your helmet back on. The hunt isn't over yet. You intend to catch your prey before he escapes from Zeffo. You activate your comlink, searching among your troops for the clue that will lead you to him. But none of them have seen the redhead – he had to find a way to avoid them once again. Those dimwits are really only good at shining your boots. You sigh with frustration before you rush out of the ravine too.</p><p>After a few hundred feet, you can see the path he has taken. You know he went that way. You feel his Force signature, almost faded but still present. It's the only way to get around the Imperial troops stationed further on.</p><p>Huge metal pistons are sinking at a steady pace into the rock face, crushing everything in their path. Their hypnotic back and forth is accompanied by the muffled cracking of crushed stones at each impact. If you take the time to count correctly, you can jump across from piston to piston. It's difficult, but not impossible – especially with the help of the Force. You hope for a moment that the redhead hasn't fallen into the void below – no, you would have felt it. You know he made it through.</p><p>You jump on the first piston. Your boots slip slightly when you land on the smooth metal, but you still manage to keep your balance. You jump on the next piston, and so on until you reach the other side.</p><p>It was more complicated than you expected – you nearly fell down several times. The redhead managed to get through as well. He's faster and nimbler than you thought. You keep going, eager to catch up with him.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>You managed to catch up to him, but it's too late. Standing on the roof of a hangar, you watch him as he runs over the landing pad to reach his ship. Suddenly, he stops, and a blue light shines from his shoulder, as if scanning something on the ground – you can't see what from where you are. A droid. There's a small white droid perched on the redhead's shoulder – an exploration model. You didn't even notice it during your fight, too focused that you were on its master. You grit your teeth and clench your fists. You hate droids.</p><p>As if he sensed your presence, the boy turns around and sees you watching him. You say nothing. Right now, you almost wish you were wearing a cape. It would flap wildly in the strong wind, accentuating the drama of your pose. But it doesn't matter. You know that his retinas have imprinted your black silhouette standing out against Zeffo's light gray sky. You know that this silhouette will now haunt his nightmares – just as his fiery hair will haunt yours.</p><p>He turns around and runs to take shelter in the safety of his ship. You're pretty sure that his pace was faster and less confident after seeing you.</p><p>You watch his ship take off. A smile blossoms on your face, revealing your teeth still covered in blood. You're pleased. At last! You've found a worthy opponent.</p><p>You were fed up playing cat and mouse. You prefer to hunt fox.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"The time has come. You want to see him face to face, right in the eyes. You put both hands on the sides of your helmet and pull it off with a brisk jerk, releasing the mass of your tousled hair that bounces against your cheeks before you throw it carelessly to the ground. The dampness of the air immediately hits your face, and sweat begins to bead up on your skin."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for your support! Every kudo or comment brightens my day!</p><p>I thank melrosethecat for the beta-reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You feel its bite on your skin before you hear its buzzing. Your hand slaps sharply on the nape of your neck, swatting the annoying little mosquito to put an end to its short and undesirable existence. You look at the little red stain on the palm of your glove. That nasty bug was full of blood – your blood. You decide to put your helmet back on your head to protect yourself from another possible tiny assailant.</p><p>You hate Kashyyyk – its jungle, its Wookiees, its Wyyyschokks, and especially its mosquitoes. You look at the trees around you. No breath of wind waves the bright emerald green leaves – red behind the lenses of your helmet that you've had repaired since the incident on Zeffo. The air is hot and humid, but luckily your outfit protects you from it – you also hate the climate of this damn planet. The lack of wind, the heavy air, and the grey clouds herald rain.</p><p>You sigh in frustration and angrily kick a clump of earth, as if it had insulted you with its mere presence, sending it flying several feet ahead of you. The Grand Inquisitor sent you here to quash the pathetic resistance that's being organized on Kashyyyk. You've spent the last few days slaughtering Wookiees and insurgents. Although it was fun at first – watching those fuzzballs catch fire screaming is one of your favorite pastimes – you soon got bored of that game. None of them are your equal. The only one slightly worthy of any interest, Tarfful, is hiding somewhere in that damn jungle, and none of your men have been able to flush him out yet. You feel like you're wasting your time. You'd rather be hunting other prey – especially one about which you haven't stopped thinking in the last few weeks.</p><p>You've been ordered to wait in this small clearing almost entirely shaded by the leaves of the trees that form like a protective shield over your head. Only a few holes in the thick jade-colored canopy let the sunlight through, allowing you to catch a glimpse of the dark clouds that are gathering in the sky.</p><p>You wait. Your men finally spotted Saw Gerrera, the leader of the insurgents, and set a trap for him. They're supposed to force him to flee into the jungle, driving him back to you so you can finish the job. Once Gerrera's dead, you could concentrate on your other activities – and on hunting down a particular red-headed Jedi.</p><p>You wait. You take off your glove to look at your right hand. The humidity is clearly not doing its circuits any good. You fold and unfold your hand, making the durasteel knuckles crack. Imperial engineers have done a remarkable job. Even the color of the synthetic skin is identical to the color of the rest of your forearm – it almost looks like a real hand. And yet you won this prosthesis the day the Eleventh Sister was born. You don't even remember what your real hand looked like before. It doesn't matter. Yeah, clearly, with the ambient humidity, the joints are slightly jammed. Lucky you're left-handed.</p><p>Suddenly, you hear a noise and see the leaves of the tree ferns moving. Gerrera is ahead of schedule, but that's not a problem. The sooner you're done, the sooner you're off that damn wet rock. You quickly put your glove back on and lay your hands on your hips in a proud and provocative attitude, eagerly awaiting your prey.</p><p>You hear footsteps and a series of curses. The human who emerges from the ferns by swearing is not the one you expected, but you are still delighted – even more than delighted. You immediately recognize his thick ginger hair despite the red lenses on your helmet. Your little fox. With his damn droid perched on his shoulder. The Force really does things well!</p><p>He laboriously removes a creeper hanging from his forearm before raising his head and finally noticing your presence.</p><p>"You!" he exclaimed, recognizing you.</p><p>Obviously, he wasn't expecting to see you here either.</p><p>"Oh Foxy, that's a pretty voice you've got there," you say with a grin. "You didn't give me the pleasure of hearing your little meows last time – I was even wondering if you weren't mute."</p><p>From where you are, you can see the sweat running down his forehead – you don't know if it's because of the moist air or the fear you inspire in him. His eyes go from you to the jungle and back to you. It's almost cute how he hesitates to run away. But you know he wouldn't get far – and he knows it too.</p><p>"What do you want?" he asks in a tone as cutting as steel.</p><p>You spread your arms apart, palms turned to the sky.</p><p>"Nothing. Everything. Hunt you. Catch you. Have fun. Kill you? I don't know! And I don't care!"</p><p>He gazes wide-eyed at you, stunned by your unpredictable demeanor. Even you, you have to admit, never know where your insane mind will lead you. But as you just said, you don't care. All you care about is having fun – having fun with him.</p><p>He unclips his lightsaber from his belt and ignites it. You stifle a snigger. So, he wants to play? Alright.</p><p>You pull out your own lightsaber and light its red blade. Without wasting a second, you hurl yourself at him, screaming. There isn't that quiet moment like last time on Zeffo, when you took the time to analyze each other in an almost intimate dance. No, now you're getting straight to the point – the fight.</p><p>The redhead reacts immediately to your charge and throws his lightsaber in your direction. You leap elegantly over the blade, before bending down to the ground to prevent it from hitting you when he pulls it back to him. Unlike your last encounter, he is on the offensive. You love that. His fighting style is hard to predict – it's so fun! You exchange a whole series of blows without managing to break the opponent's guard.</p><p>You plan a move that you know is lethal, but he stretches out his hand towards you. Suddenly you feel heavy, very heavy. As if the air had become water, as if your body was meeting invisible resistance – he has slowed you down thanks to the Force. You see his next attack coming, but you are too slow to stop it. You close your eyes and focus. You sink your boots into the wet dirt that covers the ground and push on your feet, jumping backwards in a somersault that puts you out of reach of his blade before standing up to face him.</p><p>"I must admit that you've made some progress. But I expected no less from you!"</p><p>You deactivate your lightsaber and put it back on your belt.</p><p>Surprised by your gesture, he freezes, the blade of his lightsaber illuminating the left side of his face with a bluish light that makes him look sickly.</p><p>The time has come. You want to see him face to face, right in the eyes. You put both hands on the sides of your helmet and pull it off with a brisk jerk, releasing the mass of your tousled hair that bounces against your cheeks before you throw it carelessly to the ground. The dampness of the air immediately hits your face, and sweat begins to bead up on your skin.</p><p>You can see the surprise in his eyes – and maybe a hint of fascination too. You reveal your white teeth in a smirk and begin a false curtsey, mockingly imitating a shy young maid who would introduce herself to a handsome suitor.</p><p>"Well, what? Surprised I'm not a monster?"</p><p>When he hears your voice – your real voice, not the one distorted by a modulator – he comes to his senses and raises his blade before his eyes. A defensive stance again. Frankly, he's falling back into his old ways.</p><p>You shake your head in disappointment and sigh conspicuously.</p><p>"Come on, Foxy. Admit it. Aren't you happy to see me again? We're having a good time, you and me, aren't we?"</p><p>"Shut the fuck up!" he exclaims curtly.</p><p>His reaction surprises you. It's not really what you expected from a member of an Order that advocates calm and serenity.</p><p>"Oh, but he bites!" you say with a chuckle of delight – a deep throat noise that sounds more like the purr of a big cat than a laugh. "Come on, you feel it too, don't you? There's something between you and me. You can't deny it."</p><p>You see him hesitate for a short while. Then his lips twist into a wince of disgust.</p><p>"You're insane. There's nothing between us. There never has been and there never will be."</p><p>It's hard for you to admit it, but you feel hurt by his attitude. So, you disgust him? Your smile suddenly fades, and your eyes become as sharp as two keen daggers. If your gaze could kill, he would have died with his heart pierced. Many times.</p><p>"You're cute to think you can escape from me," you say in a now icy tone. "But you know how this will end. Either I kill you, or I take you back with me to torture you. I have to tell you that right now, I give preference to the second option. Don't make me angry, or I might change my mind quickly."</p><p>The tension between the two of you is palpable in the heavy, moist air. As if to respond to that tension, the storm finally breaks out. Lightning tears the black clouds above your heads, thunder rumbles in the distance, and rain slowly begins to fall. The first translucent beads of water drip onto the leaves before sliding down on them and falling heavily to the ground in a resounding plop, quickly turning the ground into a pool of mud. The cadenced lapping becomes faster and faster, like a rhythmic melody, while the drops become thinner and thinner. The smell of rain mixed with the scent of wet earth fills your nostrils.</p><p>You are quickly soaked to the skin. So is the boy. His red hair dangles pathetically before his eyes. He pushes it away with the back of his hand. He looks pitiful, like a wet-haired fox. You'd almost feel sorry for him – almost. The way he looks at you, you must look as pitiful as he does.</p><p>You take one step towards him. The soles of your boots struggle to peel away from the sludge with an almost obscene sucking noise. You reach out an open hand to him, like a friendly invitation.</p><p>"Either you come with me of your own free will, or I'll drag your sorry ass to my ship. That's my final offer. And frankly, it would be a shame to do this to your pretty ass."</p><p>The redhead raises his lightsaber in front of his eyes and takes a clumsy step backwards, half-sliding in the mud. The raindrops shine with a bluish glow as they pass in front of his blade, emphasizing the flame burning in his eyes. The flame of courage. He's brave, but foolish.</p><p>"I'd rather die."</p><p>Deep down, you were hoping for that answer. Otherwise, you'd have been disappointed. You feel a new smile blooming on your lips as your fingers unclip your lightsaber from your belt. The red blade springs to life in your hand.</p><p>"What a pity," you simply say, shrugging your shoulders before moving into an attack stance.</p><p>This time he's the one who throws himself at you screaming. His blows are powerful, filled with fear and anger. However, he can't hurt you; he doesn't have help from the dark side – not yet. You recoil a few steps back to make him feel like he can defeat you. It's one of your favorite tricks. Make your opponent feel like he can win before you ruin his hopes and finish him off.</p><p>When you feel you've made the fun last long enough, you counterattack vigorously and unleash a storm of strikes. The boy is caught by surprise like a youngling, and his lightsaber slips out of his hands, while your blade hits him on the shoulder. His cry of pain sounds like exquisite music to your ears, and you smile. You don't want to kill him – not right now. You want to take your time, make him suffer, and when he will have suffered enough, then you—</p><p>Before you know what's going on, you're falling flat on your face on the ground. That little Jedi scum just tripped you, and you didn't even see it coming. Bastard! You raise your head, but a second later you feel his foot pressing with all his weight on the back of your skull, sinking your face into the mud puddle in which you're wallowing. You struggle, fight to free yourself, try to catch your breath, but the mud quickly fills your mouth, your nostrils, and your eyes. You can't breathe, you're suffocating. In a desperate attempt, you try to grab his leg to make him fall. However, your arms wave in vain, and your fingers meet only emptiness.</p><p>For the first time in five years, you feel life slipping away from you. You had forgotten that unbearable feeling of powerlessness. Everything is black around you. You can't hear any sound except that of your heart, which is gradually decelerating. You're weakening. Soon, you stop struggling – you no longer have the strength to do so – and you let yourself go to the darkness.</p><p>Suddenly, you feel his foot pulling away from your head. Coming to your senses, you get up on your feet painfully, spitting and gasping, and you wipe the thick layer of mud from your face with your hand. By the time you turn around, he's already gone. He must think he's killed you.</p><p>Defeated by a mere Padawan. You feel humiliated. With anger you bite your lower lip and try to hold back the tears of shame and rage that appear in the corner of your eyes. Two drops give in to gravity and run down your cheeks, mingling with the mud and sweat already there. You hate him. You detest him. You only dream of one thing: to slash his pretty face until he dies.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>You read again the data written in white letters on the black screen of the computer in front of you. You've reread it dozens, hundreds of times since you returned to the Fortress of the Inquisitorius. You know them by heart now.</p><p>
  <em>Cal Kestis. Eighteen years old. Former apprentice to Jaro Tapal. Worked as a rigger for the Scrapper Guild of Bracca...</em>
</p><p>It's the first time you do some research on one of your prey. You've never known the names of the many Jedi you've killed before. You didn't care about it. You still don't care. The only thing you care about is him. Cal Kestis.</p><p>You can hear the thud of her footsteps before she even gets in the room. The towering Ninth Sister leans over your shoulder to look inquisitively at the contents of your research. You feel her warm and fetid breath against your cheek as her lips curl into a scornful grin.</p><p>"Ah! That Jedi again? Honestly, I still don't get what you see in that little skinny scrap rat. Well, I suppose you two could spawn a litter of little skinny scrap rats together."</p><p>You suddenly stand between her and the computer, trying to hide the screen with your body. You don't even know why you're doing this. She already knows for what you're looking, and she has access to the same information you do about him. You reveal your clenched teeth as if they were fangs, and you emit a muffled growl – you're like a wildcat about to go for its victim's throat.</p><p>"Get out of my way," you roar curtly. "He's mine."</p><p>She looks at you with an amused smile.</p><p>"Frankly, dear Sister, it's turning into an obsession. You should be careful. Although, we both know that you've got a screw loose," she says, turning her finger against her temple in a gesture alluding to madness. "You're already not in a very sound mind, but now you're in danger of going completely crazy."</p><p>All you want to do is violently punch her in the face. However, the Grand Inquisitor banned fighting between Brothers and Sisters. You know she's provoking you to force you to hit her. She knows that your brain sometimes gets out of your control, pushing you to perpetrate completely irrepressible and improbable acts. You hold yourself back, exhaling your hatred and channeling your fury into your clenched fists. At the cost of an enormous effort, you manage to keep control of your mind.</p><p>"I may have a few blown fuses, but I've never missed a mission, unlike you," you say in a cutting tone.</p><p>The Ninth Sister can say what she wants; she knows you're right. You've never failed. You've always brought back your prey, dead or alive. And she's far from being able to say the same – her failure rate is one of the highest in the Inquisitorius.</p><p>"We'll see what your perfect record says the day I bring you back the head of the scrap rat," the Ninth Sister responds defiantly. "I just hope you won't cry too much!"</p><p>The Dowutin bursts out with a raucous laughter before walking away, leaving you alone in the archive room.</p><p>You shrug with contempt. You know she's no match for you. She's always had a big mouth, but the results speak for themselves. You're one of the best Inquisitors in the Empire – maybe even better than the Second Sister. You know your time will come. They'll fall, and you'll prevail.</p><p>However, before you do, you have another problem to settle. A problem named Cal Kestis.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The publishing is going to take me some time because I have started a new job and I am often too tired in the evening to be able to translate correctly and efficiently. I also want to finish another fanfic that I'm translating at the same time. As soon as I finish that other fanfic, I will be able to devote myself entirely to this one!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Both in a defensive stance, your lightsabers raised in front of your eyes, you and Kestis step backwards until your backs meet each other. You turn your head to look at him out of the corner of your eye. Your gazes meet again. He says nothing, but you know you're on the same wavelength."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks again for the kudos and comments! You’re the sun of my days!</p><p>I thank melrosethecat for the beta-reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I found the Jedi!" the Ninth Sister had boasted in the message she had sent to you on your transmitter. And now her corpse, amputated of one hand, lies before your eyes, stretched out in the mud. You had warned her, but with her usual pride she didn't listen to you. Serves her right! You didn't like her. You don't like anyone anyway, not even yourself.</p><p>You look at her charred stump. Did the redhead do this to her? Yes, probably. It's the mark of a lightsaber, and you only know one person with a lightsaber who might be strolling around here. The body is still warm; the blood is still fresh. The boy – Kestis, if your memory serves you well – must not be very far away. The body of the Ninth Sister fell several hundred feet from the top of the Wroshyr tree at the foot of which you are standing. You look up at its foliage. Yes, you can feel it; he's somewhere up there. No need to hurry. He'll come down eventually, and you'll be there to welcome him.</p><p>You leave the soldiers to deal with the body and the formalities. Paperwork isn't your thing. You shouldn't even be there anyway. You came to Kashyyyk only to answer the call of the Ninth Sister. You were convinced that she was just trying to provoke you, and you came to make her eat her lies. After all there was no way the redhead could have come back here after your last confrontation – he wasn't really that stupid, right? However, it has to be said that she was telling the truth – her still-smoking corpse proves it. Your thoughts turn away from the remains of the Ninth Sister. Only one thing interests you now – Cal Kestis.</p><p>You close your eyes for a moment and concentrate, projecting your mind into the tree. You scrutinize, you analyze every nook and cranny, you scan every breath of life in search of him. Wookiees, Slyyygs, Wyyyschokks, Tachs, insects of all kinds – you quickly brush their minds before you leave them. They're not the ones in which you're interested. Suddenly, you feel a presence in the Force that is different from others. Like a vibrant flame of pure energy. It's him – you've found him!</p><p>You start to walk, gradually going back up the thread unwound by the Force as if you were going back up the current of a river. A carnivorous smile appears on your lips. You can't wait to catch your prey.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>There he is, under the starry canopy of the night sky, quietly sitting cross-legged on the moss, his two hands resting on his knees, his eyes closed, his droid standing guard at his side. You immediately recognize a Jedi meditation posture. He's probably resting, regaining his strength after his fight with the Ninth Sister.</p><p>You still can't believe that he was able to defeat her. After all, even if she wasn't the most skilled warrior, she was still part of the Inquisitorius. And he's just a pathetic little Padawan, barely older than a child. Ah! You'd almost regret having to kill him.</p><p>A cool night breeze quietly waves the green grass and his red hair. He is still immersed in his meditation – you know that it can last for several hours. Standing on the branch of a tree, you take the opportunity to analyze the terrain. It's best to be well prepared to avoid unpleasant surprises.</p><p>He sits in the middle of a flat, vaguely rectangular area, surrounded on three of its sides by the lush jungle. The last side is a several hundred feet high bluff that overlooks the surroundings, offering a breathtaking view of all of Kashyyyk. The entire area is covered with a soft, green moss dotted with tufts of long grass, and is crossed by a small clear stream that rushes briskly toward the cliff, falling into the void in a crystalline waterfall.</p><p>The leaves of the trees around you appear black at this time of night, even if a moonbeam gently skims some of them, furtively revealing their emerald color with its silvery light. Behind you, you hear the nocturnal sounds of the wild jungle – the growling of hunting felines, the hissing of deadly snakes, and the buzzing of bloodsucking insects.</p><p>The only light comes from the stars that stud the sky and the multitude of fireflies lazily flying above the green moss, like a myriad of tiny golden dots of light.</p><p>The ideal place for a romantic rendezvous. Except that it's not a rendezvous. Much less a romantic rendezvous.</p><p>Suddenly, the boy's clear voice comes out of his mouth.</p><p>"I know you're there."</p><p>How did he know? Yet you removed your helmet whose optical lenses emit a red light that's all too easy to spot at night, and you were careful to hide your Force signature. Nevertheless, he sensed your presence, lurking in the shadows.</p><p>There's no point in hiding anymore. Like a black cat, you jump to the foot of the tree in which you were perched and approach him without making a sound, your feet sinking silently into the thick moss. When you face him, he finally opens his eyes. He doesn't seem surprised to see that you're still alive.</p><p>"What are you doing here?" he asks, looking at you distrustfully.</p><p>"I've come to thank you," you answer with a quiet smile.</p><p>He raises his eyebrows in surprise – surprised to see you so calm, or surprised by your answer?</p><p>"Why?" he asks, still suspicious.</p><p>"For eliminating the Ninth Sister. Frankly, I couldn't stand her. You took a thorn out of my side – a big one if I may say so."</p><p>You giggle, but he doesn't laugh at your joke, which you think is hilarious though. Pfff. These Jedi definitely have no sense of humor.</p><p>"I didn't do it for you," he replied curtly.</p><p>"Oh?" you say, falsely astounded. "Here I thought we could become friends."</p><p>"Get the hell out of my way, or I'll finish what I couldn't complete last time."</p><p>His tone is now clearly threatening. He has the cheek to think he's your equal. You love that.</p><p>"Ah!" Your voice cracks like thunder, disturbing the serene tranquility of the place. "Here he is! I finally found my Foxy Boy with his sharp tongue again! Or should I say, Cal Kestis."</p><p>He doesn't seem surprised that you know his name, but he frowns when he hears you say it.</p><p>"What would your master say if he could see you now, Foxy? Little pitiful Padawan playing with his lightsaber when you weren't even able to save him? What would Jaro Tapal say?"</p><p>He doesn't say anything, but you see in his narrowing pupils that you've shot right into his heart. He clenches his teeth, trying to keep his composure as he remembers his former master and his failure.</p><p>"I've done my research too," he replies. "And I know you were a Jedi once. What would your master say if he saw that you had become an Inquisitor in the pay of the Empire, [Y/N] [Y/L/N]?"</p><p>You roll your eyes with a conspicuous sigh of disdain. [Y/N] [Y/L/N]. You haven't heard that name for a long time. Five years to be exact. He thinks he can affect you by evoking your past, your former master and your name. Nice try. But it doesn't work. The past means nothing to you anymore.</p><p>You shrug your shoulders and say, "The girl you're talking about died along with her pitiful master. He was a poor, pathetic loser who only deserved to die. I'm glad he had the kindness to croak quickly – one less pitiful Jedi in the galaxy. As for 'her', she was just as pitiful as her master. She didn't even last three days before she broke. But she was lucky enough to be reborn stronger and more powerful thanks to the dark side."</p><p>You see the eyes of Kestis fill with dread when he hears you reel all these horrors off. It's a first victory on the road to your revenge.</p><p>"How can you..."</p><p>But he doesn't finish his sentence, and he puts his hand on his belt while continuing to stare grimly at you. You almost feel like you're seeing anger – hatred? – in his eyes.</p><p>The blue blade springs to life in his hand as you ignite your own lightsaber. Without further ado, you rush to each other, your two blades meeting, colliding, clashing in a shower of purple sparks that contrast utterly amidst the golden fireflies. The fight lasts several minutes during which you twirl and flit in a fatal dance, the pale moon casting your black shadow on the green moss.</p><p>As your two blades collide once again at the height of your two chests, your eyes meet each other. He freezes for a moment as you offer him your most beautiful smile. Suddenly, your smile turns into an ugly grimace, and you take advantage of his immobility to give him a violent headbutt. Sneaky attacks like this have always been your specialty. Surprised, he drops his weapon on the ground. He reaches out his hand to draw it to him, but you're quicker and kick the hilt, sending it bouncing in the grass a few feet away from him.</p><p>You hastily put your lightsaber back on your belt and throw yourself on him, letting out the hissing of a furious cat, knocking him brutally to the ground. You sit on his chest, put the palms of your two hands against his temples and plunge your two thumbs into his eyes. He makes an inhuman howl, grasping your wrists with his fingers in an attempt to get you to loosen your grip and scratching with his fingernails the strip of skin that appears at the junction between your gloves and your sleeves as you thrust his eyeballs into his sockets. You hate him. You fucking hate him! After the shame he put you through the other day, you just want to see him suffer. His screams of pain are a sweet melody that fills your ears and your heart. You're going to gouge out that little shit's eyes, and then you—</p><p>Suddenly, someone hits you violently in the back, sending you rolling on the ground. You get up quickly and ignite your lightsaber to defend yourself against the new player who has just joined the game.</p><p>In all probability, Kestis' screams have attracted a whole pack of Wyyyschokks. You quickly look at the six giant spiders that have just distracted you right in the middle of your moment of glory. You also note that Kestis has stood up and got his hand on his lightsaber. The blue blade illuminates his face with a flickering light. You grumble with displeasure. He still has his two eyes. You failed.</p><p>You'd be tempted to flee into the jungle and let the redhead face the spiders alone, but they're in your way too. Apparently, they've made up their minds that you'll both end up in their stomachs tonight, and they're starting to surround you.</p><p>Both in a defensive stance, your lightsabers raised in front of your eyes, you and Kestis step backwards until your backs meet each other. You turn your head to look at him out of the corner of your eye. Your gazes meet again. He says nothing, but you know you're on the same wavelength. First the spiders. For the rest, you'll see later.</p><p>Back to back, you slowly turn clockwise to analyze your opponents. You feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours. He shivers slightly, as if he were feverish. You don't know if he's trembling with fear or impatience – you decide it's fear. You can't prevent a mocking smile from stretching your lips, even if he can't see it. You, nothing scares you. Especially not a few spiders – even giant ones.</p><p>Suddenly, your two backs abruptly move apart. Your two bodies that were as one separate. You each rush your own way on a spider. You target the one facing you, sharply cutting off its four front legs. It falls, and you take the opportunity to jump on it and stab your blade in its back to kill it. You don't see Kestis, but you hear another Wyyyschokk screaming in agony.</p><p>You face your second opponent, ready to repeat the same trick. Its body quickly joins that of its comrade on the ground. However, as you pull your lightsaber from its still-warm corpse, you forget to stay alert. A third spider jumps on your back, and you fall prone. Your lightsaber slips out of your hands and rolls to the ground. Still lying on the soil, you have just enough time to turn around to see the spider standing over you – its mandibles clicking, ready to kill you. The surprise and loss of your lightsaber leaves you defenseless.</p><p>Suddenly, a shadow gets between you and the creature. You recognize the fiery hair of Kestis. He plunges his blade into the spider's abdomen, killing it instantly. He turns around briefly to look at you, before running away to face another Wyyyschokk.</p><p>You blink, flabbergasted. You can't believe it. Kestis has just saved your life.</p><p>However, you don't have time to think about that. There are still two spiders left to kill.</p><p>You leap up and reach your hand towards the ground to pull your lightsaber to you. Kestis is struggling with a spider near the cliff. So, you deal with the last one, near the jungle. You throw your blade into its legs to wound it, then run towards it, pull your lightsaber back into your hand and spin around, cutting the head of the hideous creature with a deft and precise blow.</p><p>When you turn around, the last spider is also dead, slumped on the ground near the cliff. No trace of Kestis. You frown. Did he take the opportunity to run away like a coward again? Yet you still feel his presence.</p><p>You approach the cliff and look at the emptiness stretching beneath your feet. Kestis is there. He probably fell during his fight against the spider, but he still managed to catch hold of the ledge. His fingers slip on the lush grass and wet rock. He won't last very long.</p><p>You look at him with a haughty gaze, a smirk on your lips. You're facing a dilemma. Do you quietly stand still and watch him struggle to climb back up until he slips into the void, or do you hasten his fall by slowly crushing his fingers under the soles of your boots to make him lose his grip? You have to admit that the second option sounds very tempting.</p><p>On second thought, you opt for a third idea. You kneel down in front of him to taunt him one last time.</p><p>"Well, Foxy, your situation seems very delicate to me! Need a hand?"</p><p>You offer him your left hand, palm open. He gives you a black look. He knows exactly what you're going to do – take his hand and make him think you're going to help him climb back up, so you can push him away and make him fall into the void. And he's right. It will be so funny!</p><p>He knows he has no choice. So, in an obvious effort, he reaches out his hand to you. Still crouching, you grasp it and look him straight in the eye one last time. His green gaze pierces you like a blade of cold metal, as if he could see deep inside your dark soul. You can't escape that freezing look. And then, without knowing why, you grip his hand in yours, and you pull. You pull with all your strength until you fall backwards, as he climbs up on the edge of the cliff.</p><p>On all fours, he struggles to catch his breath. He still doesn't take his eyes off you – neither do you. Sitting on the damp moss, you stay there, stunned by your own gesture. Why? Why did you offer him your hand? Why did you help him? You know it's not because he also just saved your life. You're not the kind of person who is grateful – even less so to him.</p><p>By the look on his face, he doesn't understand either.</p><p>As a lukewarm breeze dries the sweat on your forehead, your body suddenly reminds you about itself. Your mind had banished the pain of the wounds during the fight, but your body gets back the upper hand. It's no longer time to fight – you're both clearly in no condition to do so. A kind of temporary peace takes hold.</p><p>Each of you inspect your own injuries. Kestis only suffers from a few minor bruises, but his eyes are red and glassy. You can see the multitude of small blood vessels that burst when you tried to gouge out his eyes, and hematomas are already starting to appear on the fair skin all around.</p><p>As for you, in addition to the bruises and contusions that cover your body, a large cut crosses your right shoulder blade. It is bleeding, but the wound seems shallow.</p><p>Meanwhile, Kestis' droid, who had hidden under a bush during the fight, returns to his master. He opens a dispenser in his head, and you see Kestis take out a small canister filled with a blue liquid that he injects into his shoulder – you recognize bacta.</p><p>"Thanks BD," he says softly to the scrap heap.</p><p>He looks at you hesitantly for a moment before taking out a second stim and holding it out to you. You look at the blue canister in his hand, and then turn your head away with a grunt and rummage with one hand into a pouch attached to your belt to pull out a bacta spray and a patch. You refuse to let him help you. Who does he think you are? You're proud. You've always managed on your own, and you'll continue to manage on your own.</p><p>You open the collar of your shirt to clear your shoulder, then you use the spray on your shoulder blade while Kestis injects himself with the stim you've just refused. He sighs with relief as the bacta takes effect, and he watches you with an amused look as you struggle with the patch. You clumsily try to put it on your shoulder blade, but it sticks to your fingers. This time you're the one with no sense of humor. Yet, you have to admit that the situation is funny, and if you were him, you would probably already be rolling on the floor laughing. But right now, you're not in the mood. You don't like that impish smile on his lips. You feel like he's making fun of you, and you give him a black look.</p><p>"Need help?" Kestis asks kindly.</p><p>You grunt again before you finally manage to stick the patch. It doesn't matter if it's a bit crooked. You don't need anyone's help – especially not his.</p><p>You remain seated face to face without saying anything, regaining strength, observing each other. It's Kestis who breaks the silence first.</p><p>"Why did you help me?"</p><p>You say nothing and keep your lips sealed. Not only because you refuse to talk to him, but also because you yourself don't have the answer to his question. Why, yes, why did you help him? You know it's not out of charity or goodness of heart. It's as if your mind has acted on its own without asking your opinion. You feel betrayed by your body, and you suddenly stand up to hide your cheeks that are blushing with shame.</p><p>"It's not too late, [Y/N]. You can still turn back. Go back to the light side."</p><p>Kestis has stood up too, and he is reaching out his hand to you, his eyes filled with kindness and pity. You look at his hand with a confused look on your face while thoughts are swirling at full speed in your head. Suddenly, you manage to grasp the end of the thread and untangle the ball of your thoughts. You finally know what pushed you to save his life.</p><p>You move forward to face him, until you're almost nose-to-nose with him. You can feel his warm breath against your cool skin. You can sense that he's restraining himself from stepping backwards with all his might. Then you grab his hand and bring your mouth close to his ear, moistening your lips with the tip of your tongue to whisper something to him.</p><p>"You want to know why I helped you? Honestly, Foxy, you're just an idiot."</p><p>And you give him a sharp blow to the back of his head with the hilt of your lightsaber that you have just discreetly unclipped, taking advantage of the fact that he's focused on your face. He didn't see it coming. His eyes widen in surprise before his body becomes flabby and slips to the ground.</p><p>You look at the unconscious Jedi at your feet with a scornful look; your mouth twisted in a grimace of disgust. So, he feels pity for you? These Jedi are definitely all the same. Arrogant, blind and stupid. You're not a delicate and pitiable little thing. You're a powerful and proud Inquisitor – the Eleventh Sister.</p><p>And that, Kestis will soon learn it the hard way.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As usual, don't hesitate to comment and tell me what you liked – or disliked!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"When Kestis begins to emerge from his torpor with a grunt, you're already crouched in front of him, eager to start your plan. You watch him gradually wake up, painfully opening his left eye, then his right. They are swollen and bloodshot, and two bruises speckled with black and purple now encircle them. It must be said that you didn't do things by halves with your thumbs yesterday."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to those who read, leave kudos and comment! You’re the moon of my nights.</p>
<p>I thank melrosethecat for the beta-reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When you step out of your TIE Reaper, the sun is rising like a fireball in the pale blue sky of Kashyyyk. You give an enormous yawn and then stretch out slowly, rolling your shoulders and cracking every bone of your back one by one. Even though the bacta has been effective, you're still very stiff from your last night's fight. You tilt your head to one side and then to the other, making your neck crack noisily.</p>
<p>The bruises that cover your body are still painful, but it doesn't matter, because today is a great day. Today you're going to take revenge on the Padawan who has humiliated you three times already. You don't even want to think about it again. There was that first time on Zeffo, when he managed to surprise you – you can still hear your head slamming repeatedly against the hard gray rock. Then this time on Kashyyyk when he tried to drown you in the mud. And finally, last night, when he saved you from a Wyyyschokk that was going to kill you. Why did he do that? You still don't underst—</p>
<p>Stop it! You just said you didn't want to think about it again.</p>
<p>After all this time, you finally managed to capture Kestis and bring him back to your ship. You have checked several times to make sure he's properly tied up, handcuffed to a strong steel pipe, and you're certain that he'll not be able to undo his ties, even with the help of the Force. Now all you have to do is wait until he wakes up to put the rest of your plan into action. You revel in advance in what you've planned to put him through.</p>
<p>With your arms folded, you watch the jungle that forms like a thick, dense wall in front of you. This planet will soon be just one bad memory among so many others. The defeats you suffered here against Kestis will soon be drowned in silt and oblivion. The only witness of your failures will soon disappear anyway. It's just a matter of hours now.</p>
<p>The smile of contentment that adorns your lips suddenly fades away when you hear a little chirp behind you. You frown. It's coming from the ship. You return at a quick pace inside, worried that Kestis may have escaped. You muffle a sigh of relief when you see that he's still there, unconscious on the floor. But your jaw clenches when you discover the origin of the noise: in front of Kestis stands a small red and white droid – his droid. This mechanical nuisance must have followed you here to try to free his master as soon as your back would be turned.</p>
<p>You bend down and grasp the droid's head in your right hand, holding him firmly between your black leather-gloved durasteel fingers, before lifting him up to your face. That bloody piece of junk shakes his two little legs in the air while continuing to chirp, this time in an indignant tone. You don't understand anything he's saying and you don't care – he's probably insulting you in Binary.</p>
<p>Frankly, you feel a visceral hatred for these buckets of bolts. They're even more stupid and useless than stormtroopers. With a wince of disgust, you're about to throw the droid into your ship's trash compactor, when a new crazy idea germinates in your insane mind. With your hand on the handle of the compactor, you suddenly stop your movement.</p>
<p>Change of plan. You smile. You'll have to find a restraining bolt in one of your drawers. In the end, that scrap heap is going to prove to be very useful.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>When Kestis begins to emerge from his torpor with a grunt, you're already crouched in front of him, eager to start your plan. You watch him gradually wake up, painfully opening his left eye, then his right. They are swollen and bloodshot, and two bruises speckled with black and purple now encircle them. It must be said that you didn't do things by halves with your thumbs yesterday. You can't hold back a nasty grin. Serves him right!</p>
<p>He suddenly jumps when he recognizes you before quickly inspecting the place with his eyes. You can feel him shudder slightly when he understands where he is and what awaits him. He makes a considerable effort to remain impassive, clenching his teeth with determination. However, you know it, you feel it. You're used to it – this isn't the first Jedi you've taken back to your ship to torture him. He is terrified, like a fox cornered by a hunter who's about to kill it.</p>
<p>"Hey, sexy Foxy! Sleep well?" you ask with a mischievous smile. "I told you I'd drag your pretty little ass to my ship. As you can see, I always keep my promises!"</p>
<p>He doesn't answer and gives you a black look. You have to admit, you love it when he looks at you like that. You can almost feel his anger, his hatred for you – feelings so unworthy of a Jedi. You know it now, it was for them that you saved him yesterday on the cliff. You saw in his eyes this concealed anger shining in his eyes, like glowing embers hidden under the ashes. You feel that he's not like the other Jedi you have hunted so far. There's something different about him, something wild. Not for nothing does he constantly remind you of a fox – handsome, attractive but dangerous.</p>
<p>You slowly bring your face closer to his, defiantly clashing your yellow eyes with his fiery green gaze. Suddenly, you brutally press your lips against his. Taken by surprise, he abruptly moves his head back to free himself, hitting the metal wall behind him with a thud. But you refuse to let go. Your mouth still stuck to his, you force your way between his teeth. Your tongue mingles with his. His saliva has a delicious taste of fear. He tries to push you away, but his hands are tied and he can't do anything – you have the high ground. Then suddenly you remove your mouth and tongue, biting his lower lip maliciously in the process.</p>
<p>He looks at you dumbfounded, and you give him a teasing wink. You love so much to play with your prey before you torture and kill it – this one even more than any other. Like his predecessors, he desperately tries to free himself from the handcuffs that keep him tied to the wall – they all do. Suddenly, his eyes become glassy, and he begins to shake like a leaf. A high-pitched scream chokes in his throat, like a yelp.</p>
<p>You frown. You weren't expecting this. It looks like he's terrified. But by what? You haven't even started torturing him yet! You quickly search through the files stored on the shelves of your brain – you're a very organized kind of person. <em>'Keeradak', 'Kel Dor', 'Kessel'...</em> Ah! Here it is! <em>'Kestis'.</em> You open the file and skim through it quickly with the eyes of your mind. <em>Cal Kestis. Eighteen years old. Former apprentice to Jaro Tapal.</em> You already know all of this. You've already filed and classified these data. Ah! <em>Psychometry.</em> So that's it! You didn't pay attention to it the first time you looked at these data on the fortress computer. But now you understand better.</p>
<p>You watch with curiosity at the boy writhing in pain in front of you. As he tried to free himself, he must have touched the handcuffs holding him prisoner with his fingers. Those very handcuffs that you used for so many other Jedi before him. And now he must be reliving their final moments, one by one, enduring the same torment and suffering as they did. You can't help but guffaw loudly. A practical and original means of torture. You don't even have to bother to make him suffer, he does it on his own!</p>
<p>After a long moment, his body freezes suddenly, before relaxing. Apparently, the vision is over. Still crouching, you continue to look at him, poor trembling shape huddled on the floor of your ship. You pout and poke the tip of your forefinger into his cheek to see if he reacts like a disappointed child who wants to make sure that a sleeping animal is still alive. When he finally looks at you, the glow of anger still shines in his eyes. You could even swear it's brighter than before.</p>
<p>"Why are you doing all this, [Y/N]? Don't you have any pity?" he asks you, panting.</p>
<p>"Pfff," you sigh with disdain. "I don't feel pity. Pity is the feeling of the weak. For lack of pity, I feel contempt. Contempt for those of your kind."</p>
<p>"You hold us in contempt, but yet you were one of us! Why did you join the Empire, after all they did to the Order and the Jedi? Why did you betray us?"</p>
<p>Slowly running your hand over your chin, you think for a moment. You've never really asked yourself that question. But you know the answer.</p>
<p>"Unlike the Jedi, now I'm free."</p>
<p>"Free? But free of what? You're obeying the Emperor's orders!"</p>
<p>"I'm free to disobey if I want to," you answer with a shrug.</p>
<p>"What will happen if you disobey?"</p>
<p>"I will die."</p>
<p>"And if you obey, what's in it for you?"</p>
<p>"Death."</p>
<p>"I don't understand," he says, shaking his head with a confused look.</p>
<p>He's really starting to piss you off with his cheap questions.</p>
<p>"I'm not asking you to understand me," you reply curtly. "Death is our shared fate. Weak or powerful. Poor or rich. Jedi or Sith. Sooner or later, we all end up dying. The only difference is that I'm free to choose when and how my death will occur."</p>
<p>"But that's not freedom. You don't have to... to do all this to be free," he argues. "If you wanted to, you could leave the Empire, come with me. No more Jedi Order. No more Empire. Then you'd really be free."</p>
<p>You lower your eyes so that he doesn't see that you're tempted by his offer. A world without Jedi, without Sith, without Republic, without Empire? A world with no order, no rules, no laws? A world where you could do whatever you wanted, without ever fearing the slightest retribution? Yes, you must admit, you would almost be tempted.</p>
<p>"I know there's still good in you."</p>
<p>Oh, shit. What a moron. Why did he have to add that? You look at him. and you see again the kindness, pity and mercy in his eyes. Anger swells up inside you, like the sail of a ship swollen by the wind.</p>
<p>"So that's it, huh, Foxy? You feel pity for me? You feel sorry for me? Don't you get it yet? I don't want your damn mercy. You get wrong ideas about me. I'm not a good girl. And I fully intend to prove it to you."</p>
<p>Now full of rage, you walk with an angry pace to the front of the ship and come back with something in your hand. Kestis' eyes widen as he recognizes his droid – you almost feel as if they're going to pop out of their sockets.</p>
<p>Without saying anything, you take the droid's head in your left hand and hold him out in front of you so that Kestis can see him well. The tin can starts to chirp with anxiety. With your right hand, you grasp one of his little legs and slowly pull it. The metal squeaks and creaks as you continue your slow pull. The chirps get closer and closer and more and more panicked. Suddenly, the leg gives way in a shower of sparks and the droid emits a resounding, almost organic beep.</p>
<p>"Nooo!" Kestis pleads you in the face of his friend's pain. "Stop it!"</p>
<p>"Stop what?" you ask ingenuously. You throw the droid's leg to the ground, and it slides over the metal toward Kestis in a shrill squeak. "I told you, Foxy, I'm not a good girl."</p>
<p>And with an abrupt movement, you brutally rip off the droid's second leg before folding it in half with your right hand in front of Kestis' horrified eyes. Half-stripped wires hang miserably out of the droid's joints, where his legs were formerly connected, throwing off a few sparks. The scrap heap now utters harrowing squeaks that sound like screams of pain. A real treat for your ears. You've never tortured a droid before, and you have to admit it's a lot of fun.</p>
<p>Fixed on yours, Kestis' eyes fill with tears, and he bends his neck. A sob springs from his throat and his shoulders collapse.</p>
<p>"I beg you, stop," he cries pitifully, kneeling on the durasteel floor. "I'll do anything you want, but stop."</p>
<p>You've won. You know you've won. You know you're going to break him now. With a defiant look, you grab the droid's left antenna in your hand and begin to wring it. The panicked chirping turns into a horrible moan as you bend the antenna between your fingers.</p>
<p>"Stop!" Kestis screams wildly.</p>
<p>His voice crackles like a flame. His eyes ignite with an incandescent glow. You can feel his anger. His hatred. His rage. His fury. A carnivorous smile on your lips, you keep bending the antenna.</p>
<p>The droid screams. Kestis screams. And you, completely insane, you roar with laughter.</p>
<p>Suddenly, the handcuffs that were holding Kestis burst open, and he reaches out his two hands towards you, palms open, fingers contracted. You can feel his rage accumulating in his body and pouring into the whole ship like a destructive storm. You're thrown backwards, and your head painfully hits the wall, causing you to release the droid. You're crushed by the power of the Force that radiates from him. He's powerful, so powerful. And all you can do is watch him roar his hatred and fury, his red mane waving like a flame in the hurricane he has just unleashed. At this moment, you admire him, you find him magnificent – proud, wild, untamed.</p>
<p>Once again, his destiny has just changed dramatically.</p>
<p>The storm stops as suddenly as it began. Lying on the ground, you still can't move. Panting, Kestis looks at his hands, his eyes wide open. He doesn't seem to understand what just happened, but you do. Coming to himself, he feverishly picks up the droid and his limbs scattered on the floor, before giving you one last look, opening your ship's door and running away.</p>
<p>It's now calm inside the ship. You can hear the birds twittering merrily outside. You're alone. You finally manage to move your limbs – first your legs, then your arms – and you stand up with difficulty. You look at the open door, gazing at the interlacing of emerald green foliage in which your prey has just fled.</p>
<p>You run your tongue over your teeth and suck your lips, as if to seize the last flavors of the devastation that has just occurred. You're delighted, you exult. It's a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one. You who thought, the first time you saw him, that you were dealing with a pathetic little Padawan, you have to admit that you were wrong. He's more interesting than you imagined – far much more interesting. No matter how hard he'll try to hide it from others, you know it. You know the truth. You know who Cal Kestis really is. You've felt his power, his potency. No matter how much he denies it, you know he used it. The dark side.</p>
<p>Yes, it's decided. Cal will make a great Inquisitor.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Listen, sweetie, you're cold, I'm bold. That's how it is," you say with a shrug. "You live to serve the Empire. I live to have fun. And I'm having a lot of fun with this Jedi – a lot more fun than with your damn holocron anyway. So now, if you don't mind leaving me alone, I've a prey to hunt."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay, I am currently very busy – and tired – with my job. I hope it will be better next week so I can translate a bit faster.<br/>I am so glad to see that you still like this story! You’re the lemon in my mojito.</p>
<p>I thank melrosethecat for the beta-reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's been now more than a month since you last heard from him. You gave birth to a wonder in your ship on Kashyyyk, and this wonder escaped you. Cal is definitely your masterpiece as an Inquisitor. You're sure you're going to find him. You know that the Force will eventually bring him back to you. And he'll fall into your hand like an overripe fruit falls from the tree.</p>
<p>You had tracked him down at one point – a team of stormtroopers had warned you that he was in their area. However, by the time you arrived on Ilum, he was already gone. You had wandered every square inch of the Jedi Temple and the crystal caves, ignoring the whispers of the ghosts of the past, hoping to get hold of him, but it was too late.</p>
<p>So, when the Second Sister told you that she had a lead, you obviously followed her. You didn't expect to land on this swampy forsaken planet – Bogano, if you remember the words of the Second Sister well. You have to admit that for once she was better than you. She found Cal. The S-161 'Stinger' XL ship landed in the distance is proof of this.</p>
<p>Standing on the green mesa swept by a gentle breeze, you look away from the ship. Neither it nor its occupants interest you. The only one in which you are interested has already left it for a while. You don't care why he came here – some holocron containing a list of you-don't-even-remember-what. The only thing that interests you is him and this question that is running round and round in your head for a month now.</p>
<p>Why, when you had just tortured his best friend, when he possessed the power of the dark side, when he could have squashed you like a mere fly, why didn't Cal kill you?</p>
<p>Lost in your thoughts, you hear someone coming behind you. You don't even bother to turn around. It's the Second Sister. She's coming from this strange building whose towering shape stands out in the distance on the horizon. She stands in front of you, a green holocron resting on the palm of her hand, looking troubled.</p>
<p>"I found the holocron, we can go."</p>
<p>You raise your eyebrows with disdain.</p>
<p>"I'm sure Vader will be delighted."</p>
<p>"<em>Lord</em> Vader," the Second Sister corrects you.</p>
<p>You pout. You've never been a bootlicker like her. Maybe that's why you've never climbed the ladder of the Inquisitorius despite all your successes. Or maybe it's because you have a reputation for being too unstable. You don't care anyway. As long as you're allowed to come and go freely to kill Jedi, you're fine with it.</p>
<p>"It is time for us to go back to Nur," said the Second Sister.</p>
<p>"I'm not coming," you declare with aplomb.</p>
<p>"Don't you want to hand over the holocron to Lord Vader?" she asked, looking a little surprised.</p>
<p>"I don't care about your holocron. You can bring it back to Vader by yapping and wagging your tail like a good little faithful doggie. He'll be pleased."</p>
<p>You see the Second Sister frowning as her cheeks turn pink. You know that she doesn't like to hear you talk about the Sith Lord in such a rude way – nor that you insult her. But she's not your superior, she can't reprimand you for that.</p>
<p>"I just hope you left him alive, as I asked you to," you continue curtly, turning around to stare at the strange building.</p>
<p>You know that Cal is in that Vault. You just have to wait for him to come out. He will inevitably pass through here to reach his ship.</p>
<p>The Second Sister looks at you in an odd way. You can't decipher what she's thinking – as usual. She's one of the few who can resist your probing gaze and your analytical mind. One of the few whose thoughts you can't guess – along with Vader and Cal. That's one of the many reasons why you don't like her.</p>
<p>"The Ninth Sister was right. You're too obsessed with this Jedi," she said scathingly. "I would almost wonder if you aren't getting romantic with age!"</p>
<p>You look at her out of the corner of your eye, half amused, half haughty. She thinks she can provoke you. But she failed – it doesn't work.</p>
<p>"I know what I'm going to say looks very 'Jedi'," she continues. "But you shouldn't become attached to him."</p>
<p>"Listen, sweetie, you're cold, I'm bold. That's how it is," you say with a shrug. "You live to serve the Empire. I live to have fun. And I'm having a lot of fun with this Jedi – a lot more fun than with your damn holocron anyway. So now, if you don't mind leaving me alone, I've a prey to hunt."</p>
<p>The Second Sister gives you one last eloquent glance without saying anything before walking towards her ship. A few minutes later, you hear her TIE Fighter fly by whistling over your head.</p>
<p>At last. At last, you're alone. At last, you're going to have fun.</p>
<p>With your legendary patience, you wait for Cal to come out of that damn Vault. Bogano isn't a very interesting planet in your eyes. All you see there is a mesa covered with green grass and water holes, traversed by steep canyons, and populated by wild creatures that are relatively harmless compared to what you may have encountered on your past missions. In short, a deadly dull backwater. You wonder what got into the aliens who built this Vault to come and bury themselves here.</p>
<p>You begin to wonder if the Second Sister didn't lie to you and if she really left Cal alive when you see a shape emerging from the Vault. In spite of the distance that separates you, you recognize the red flame of his hair, little fox lost in the middle of the green vastness of the swamp.</p>
<p>As you predicted, he's coming towards you. In any case, he has no choice – unless he had learned to fly through the dozens of feet wide canyons that surround you.</p>
<p>When he gets close to you, he frowns. There's something different about him, something changed, but you can't figure out what – no, it's not this new, exceptionally ugly green poncho.</p>
<p>Perched on his shoulder, his droid chirps him a warning. You're disappointed to see that this scrap heap still works. But your lips stretch into a cruel grin when you see the condition in which he is. Cal managed to fix one of his legs, but he had to replace the second – probably the one you bent in half. The new black and yellow metal leg is in sharp contrast to the rest of his white-painted body. As for his antenna, despite all Cal's efforts to straighten it, it remains half-twisted, pointing to the sky as the triumphant symbol of your visceral hatred for droids.</p>
<p>"Where's Trilla?" Cal asks you abruptly.</p>
<p>You raise your eyebrows without understanding what he's talking about.</p>
<p>"What? Who? Oh, you mean the Second Sister!"</p>
<p>It must be said that you don't know the names of the other Inquisitors. Not that it's a secret, but you're not interested in that kind of information. You see them more as an obstacle in your path than as companions in misfortune. Therefore, it's more useful for you to know their fighting style or way of thinking than a detail as trivial as their name.</p>
<p>"She's already left for Nur. With your holocron."</p>
<p>You suddenly notice the black circular object in Cal's hand. An Inquisitor's lightsaber. The Second Sister's. Oh, clever boy! He managed to disarm the Inquisitor and take her weapon away from her! You understand better her troubled look from earlier. Aha! When the Second Sister will know that you're aware that a simple Padawan had defeated her! You can't wait to find yourself in front of her so that you can make fun of her and ridicule her in front of the other Brothers and Sisters. Her pride is going to suffer a big blow!</p>
<p>Cal pretends to ignore you and go around you to get to his ship, but you get in his way and cut him off, holding him by the shoulder.</p>
<p>"Well then, Foxy? That's how you thank me for having given you such crucial intel? You could at least show me a little gratitude, couldn't you?!"</p>
<p>He hears your cheerful voice, but he also sees the anger that simmers in your burning eyes.</p>
<p>"I don't know what you're talking about," he replies coldly.</p>
<p>"Oh, c'mon Foxy! Don't tell me you're mad at me for the last time! It's because of what? The kiss or what I did to your droid? Come on, admit it! I'm sure you loved our kiss! If you want, we can do it again!"</p>
<p>"No thanks," he said in a voice now as icy as the snowy plains of Hoth.</p>
<p>"If you make an effort, I promise to keep your little secret." You give him a naughty wink, but your voice is almost a threatening whisper in his ear. "I know you used it on my ship. I know you used the dark side. And I know you liked it. This power, it's exhilarating, isn't it? I also know you're going to want to use it again. Once you've tasted it, you can't live without it. Just let yourself go. Let the dark side overwhelm you."</p>
<p>Ashamed, he refuses to look at you. He takes your hand on his shoulder to remove it. Bad luck for him, it's your right hand. Your synthetic hand. He closes his eyes for a moment and grumbles.</p>
<p>"Oh no, not again."</p>
<p>Not again? Not again what? Your brain analyzes the situation in the blink of an eye. Psychometry doesn't work on living things, but your hand stopped being alive a long time ago. You assume that his 'not again' refers to the lightsaber he's holding in his hand – that explains how the Second Sister was able to get the holocron despite losing her weapon, and why it took Cal so long to get out of the Vault to join you.</p>
<p>Staring into space, trembling, he looks at a scene that only he can see. You don't know what he sees exactly, but you know that whatever it is, it's not a pretty sight. You know that he's going to suffer like you suffered. That's the only thing in your memories anyway – torture, pain, suffering, anger, hatred. The rest you've forgotten.</p>
<p>Delighted, you smile mockingly as you watch his face writhe in pain while he accesses your past; you sneer as you watch the tears streaming down his cheeks.</p>
<p>Suddenly, a voice resounds painfully in your head.</p>
<p>
  <em>"Please! I don't want to die!"</em>
</p>
<p>A voice that you had forgotten, like the nagging echo of a distant past that you had buried in the depths of your soul. Your voice. The one from before, when you were still a naive and confident young Padawan.</p>
<p>In a mix of fright and pain, you scream and suddenly withdraw your hand from Cal's, abruptly breaking his vision. Panicked, you frantically take off your black glove to look at your palm. You feel as if your bones are catching fire, your muscles are burning, and your skin is melting. The prosthesis is able to transmit certain physical sensations through artificial nerves, but not as realistic, nor of such intensity. You don't understand what just happened. It's as if you're reliving the feelings of that day – the day you lost your hand.</p>
<p>In an instinctive reflex, you bring your synthetic hand to your chest and clutch it with your other hand, as if to protect it. In spite of all your attempts to push them away, the memories flow brutally into your mind, like a raging wave on a stormy sea. Those memories that you had tried to forget with all your might.</p>
<p>You see again your bloody stump waving vainly in the air while your freshly severed hand, with its contorted fingers shaking in a final spasm, lies in a pool of blood on the metal floor of the interrogation chamber. You hear again the sadistic laughter of the Grand Inquisitor who has just savagely mutilated you resounding against the cold steel walls. You hear again your own screams of pain, and your cowardly pleas pierce your eardrums as your mind suddenly sinks into madness.</p>
<p>
  <em>"Please! I don't want to die!"</em>
</p>
<p>You didn't want to die, and it was this fear of death that drove you to break down and give up everything. You know it. No matter how much you say you're not afraid of it, in reality death still scares you. You're just too proud and too crazy to admit it.</p>
<p>When you come to, your cheeks are soaked with tears you couldn't hold back. Your watery eyes fall on Cal. Bent forward, hands on his knees, he's struggling to catch his breath. When he raises his head, his gaze is like that of a lost puppy – full of sorrow and distress. When he opens his mouth to speak, you turn your head away. You've already told him you don't want his mercy.</p>
<p>"[Y/N]," he stammers, shaking his head with a sorry look on his face. "I... I saw what they did to you. They had no right."</p>
<p>With your teeth clenched, you don't say anything. This time it's you who's unable to hold his gaze.</p>
<p>"You can stop all this. You can come with me, if you want."</p>
<p>He stops talking, waiting for your answer.</p>
<p>After a long silence, you end up turning your eyes to him while your mouth twists into a scornful grin.</p>
<p>"You're so naive and stupid, sweet Foxy. Because you've seen my past, you think you know me? Don't you get it yet that I'm lost?"</p>
<p>You raise your chin proudly and continue.</p>
<p>"You want to save me that much? I have a counteroffer for you, Foxy. You've tasted the power of the dark side. Now you know what you're capable of. Come with me. Join the Inquisitorius. Between the two of us, we'd be the most powerful Inquisitors. No one could stand in our way. Nothing could stop us. We would overthrow the Grand Inquisitor, Vader, and even the Emperor! And then, then we would really be free!"</p>
<p>He looks at you, prisoner of your madness against which you struggle in vain. You read in his eyes that he gives up. He thinks he can't do anything for you anymore – and he's right. You've said it – you're lost. Nothing and no one can save you from your insanity, and you know it as well as he does.</p>
<p>He lowers his head and starts walking slowly to get back on his way. As he goes by you, you can hear him whisper.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry."</p>
<p>Sorry for what? For turning down your offer? For not being able to save you?</p>
<p>You let him pass without even trying to hold him back. You can hear him walking away behind you, his feet sinking into the wet grass with a spongy sound. You don't even turn around. You don't even know what to think.</p>
<p>Yes, definitely yes, you're completely lost.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"When you enter the room, all the other Inquisitors are already there, lined up next to each other. Eleven Inquisitors minus four – the Sixth and Tenth Brothers as well as the Second and Ninth Sisters are no longer alive. You surreptitiously look at your six other Brothers and Sisters, wondering if they represent six potential allies or enemies."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for your kind messages. I need them these days. You’re the airbag of my car.</p>
<p>I thank melrosethecat for the beta-reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The storm is in full swing when you arrive in sight of the fortress of the Inquisitorius. You don't see it, but you can make out its huge dark mass under the surface of the raging sea. You aim for the landing platform in front of you, the only visible sign of the immense underwater building, lost in the middle of the vast waters.</p>
<p>Without taking any precautions, you abruptly land your ship on the durasteel platform, shaking the spacecraft and making its entire metal structure squeal. You're clearly not a skilled pilot. For you, ships are just a mere means of transport. You don't understand the exhilarating pleasure pilots get from performing complex and perilous figures in the sky or space – it's foolish and reckless. It doesn't matter if your ships have a limited lifespan because of your rough and hazardous piloting. They're nothing but expendable tools – just like you.</p>
<p>You get up from your seat and walk to the back of your TIE Reaper to engage the door opener. The ramp isn't even fully lowered yet, but you quickly hurtle down it before you jump with both feet on the platform floor in a loud thud.</p>
<p>Glad to finally be out of that tin, you take a deep breath, spreading your arms wide open and filling your lungs with fresh air as the sea smell tickles your nostrils and a cold drizzle lashes your face. You take a moment to look at the scene you're facing. The ocean, swept by a terrific wind, is covered with huge black waves with green reflections – they look like living, moving mountains, whose foam would be the sparkling snow. The sky is filled with eerie dark gray clouds streaked with flashes of lightning that regularly illuminate the waters with their yellow light. You admire this wild and stormy nature; you envy it – it's magnificent and free.</p>
<p>Suddenly, your comlink springs to life, reminding you why you came back to Nur. Vader has summoned all the Inquisitors – at least those still alive – to assign you a new mission following the Second Sister's recovery of the holocron. So now you're going to hunt Force-sensitive kids – not even true Jedi. A sport certainly fun, but without any real challenge. Another waste of time.</p>
<p>You look at the ships of the other Inquisitors already on the landing platform. Apparently, you're the last one. You don't care. Vader knows you're not the most zealous Inquisitor, but he knows you're the most efficient.</p>
<p>The little red light on your wrist starts flashing frantically while the beeps become more and more urgent. You end up pressing the round button to listen to the transmission.</p>
<p>
  <em>"Second Sister... eliminated... Jedi... on the run... all Inquisitors... catch..."</em>
</p>
<p>Bad weather scrambles the signal, but you've heard enough to figure out what's going on down there. A smirk blossoms on your face, almost extending from one of your ears to the other.</p>
<p>So, the Second Sister is dead? You assume it was Cal who eliminated her – unless it was a punishment for letting the redhead enter the fortress. You know it was you who enabled Kestis to get here. Therefore, it's you who is at the origin of the fall of the Second Sister. She and the Ninth Sister didn't stop mocking you and the interest you showed for this Jedi, and now they're both dead while you and Cal are still alive. What a quirk of fate! You'd almost laugh about it! And so you do, letting out a brief burst of laughter that's quickly muffled by the sound of the storm raging around you.</p>
<p>And, icing on the cake, Cal managed to infiltrate the fortress to steal the holocron right under their noses. Still as clever as ever! You wonder if he's still inside or if he managed to get out. You don't have time to concentrate on probing the dark waters; you hear the sound of a ship overhead. You look up and recognize an S-161 'Stinger' XL – Cal's ship.</p>
<p>You're now in the best position to catch him. All you would have to do is jump into your TIE Reaper right behind you to chase after him, hunt him down until you catch him, and bring him back victoriously to Vader to reap your glorious reward. You'd be recognized, respected, and even the Grand Inquisitor could no longer do anything against you. That's what any Inquisitor with the slightest bit of common sense would do.</p>
<p>But you're not just any Inquisitor. And you've absolutely no common sense. You don't care about reward, Vader, and the Grand Inquisitor. You want Cal for yourself, just for yourself – he belongs to you. You've never liked to share – even as a child you didn't like to share your snack – and you're not going to start now.</p>
<p>You watch the white and blue ship fly away in the sky like a tiny dot shrinking more and more and then jump into hyperspace before quietly joining the turbolift to go down into the dark bowels of the fortress of the Inquisitorius.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>When you enter the room, all the other Inquisitors are already there, lined up next to each other. Eleven Inquisitors minus four – the Sixth and Tenth Brothers as well as the Second and Ninth Sisters are no longer alive. You surreptitiously look at your six other Brothers and Sisters, wondering if they represent six potential allies or enemies.</p>
<p>You reach your place at the end of the line, just to the right of the Eighth Brother, facing the Grand Inquisitor. The Pau'an gives you a disapproving look. He's obviously not happy about your lateness, but you don't give a hoot.</p>
<p>You're only half-listening to him while he reassigns the other Inquisitors to different tasks, each one more boring than the last. The loss of the holocron seems to have changed his original plans for hunting Force-sensitive kids. You're surprised he doesn't mention Cal. Is it because he's ashamed of the failure of the Inquisitorius or because he has planned something else about him?</p>
<p>Your Brothers and Sisters leave the room one after the other, and you find yourself alone in front of the Grand Inquisitor. You're the only one to whom the Pau'an gave no mission. You don't like that, but you don't show it. Your face is as if frozen in ice, not revealing any of your emotions. You don't want to give him the pleasure of seeing the hint of anxiety that's beginning to appear in you.</p>
<p>"Eleventh Sister. Always so punctual."</p>
<p>You scowl at him. You don't say anything, but you have noticed his smirk. He's gloating like a Wookiee on Life Day. Why?</p>
<p>Suddenly, you freeze, as if your blood has turned to ice in your veins. The air in the room has suddenly become cold and irrepressible goosebumps run through every inch of your body, making all your hair stand on end one by one. You feel your breath getting shorter and your heart flinching with each mechanical exhalation you hear.</p>
<p>That's him. He's here. Right behind you.</p>
<p>You turn around to face Vader and kneel immediately in front of him, bowing your head as a sign of obedience. Actually, you try to avoid his scrutiny.</p>
<p>"Inquisitor."</p>
<p>His voice is cold. As cold as the snow on the highest peak. As cold as a bottomless sea of ice. As cold as total darkness.</p>
<p>"I am surprised. You must have seen the Jedi on your way here, and yet you are still here."</p>
<p>You know there's no point in denying it. Vader can read your mind like an open book. Lying to him would only make him angry at the risk of shortening your measly life.</p>
<p>"Yes, m'Lord."</p>
<p>"How do you explain this, Inquisitor? Why didn't you go after him?"</p>
<p>There's a real question in his voice. He seems surprised that his best hound has resisted the call of a good hunt.</p>
<p>"My orders were to come here, m'Lord. Not to hunt the Jedi."</p>
<p>There you go. You lied to him anyway. What a fool! And you know he heard the lie in your unsure voice. He knows that you're trying to deceive him. Your anxiety turns into anguish. You're screwed.</p>
<p>For the first time in five years, you hear him sigh behind his terrifying mask.</p>
<p>"I have to admit that I am disappointed. I had high hopes for you. But you failed. Three times you let this Jedi escape – four times now. I should kill you. However, you are one of my best people. So, unlike the Second Sister, I will give you one last chance."</p>
<p>You raise your eyebrows, surprised to hear such news. Vader, like a huge black shadow, now turns to the Pau'an.</p>
<p>"Grand Inquisitor, I let you deal with her reconditioning."</p>
<p>"With pleasure, Lord Vader."</p>
<p>Your heart stops beating when you hear this word. <em>Reconditioning</em>. The treatment for those who have failed in their duty of loyalty – torture and brainwashing, that's what's in store for you. You're not anguished anymore, you're downright terrified.</p>
<p>
  <em>Anything! Anything, even death, but not that! Definitely not that!</em>
</p>
<p>But you know that it's useless to beg the Sith Lord. Vader is anything but merciful.</p>
<p>You don't even try to resist when two Purge Troopers come to surround you and lead you to the interrogation chamber. You try to hold your head high and your gaze confident, but your legs are like jelly as you slowly make your way through the long, dark hallways of the underwater fortress. You ignore the inquisitive looks of the troopers you pass on your way. You ignore the slow, hypnotic dance of the silver fish that twirl behind the thick windows along which you silently walk. Your mind is entirely taken up by each of your steps that brings you a little closer to your ineluctable destiny.</p>
<p>When you arrive in front of the interrogation chair, you can no longer keep your composure. You startle abruptly when the door closes behind you with a thud, thereby sealing your fate, and you begin to tremble. You know what's going to happen. You've experienced it before.</p>
<p>Nothing has changed in five years – neither the sweltering heat of this room, nor the threatening Chair, nor the torturer with his cruel smile. You feel like you're that pitiful, frightened little Padawan again. That pathetic, weak girl you were sure you had killed and buried.</p>
<p>The Grand Inquisitor faces you and grabs your jaw in his hand, painfully digging the nails of his long, gray, bony fingers into your flesh.</p>
<p>"I knew you would end up betraying us. You think you know what awaits you? It will be worse."</p>
<p>Despite your shivering, you can't help but give him a defiant look and spit at his face. A last attempt to provoke him and make him fly off the handle like a gallant last stand.</p>
<p>The Grand Inquisitor lets go of your chin, wipes his cheek without saying anything, looks at his fingers covered with your drool, and then slaps you violently.</p>
<p>"You are proud. But you will soon swallow that pride. I will begin by humiliating you, then I will make you suffer, and finally, I will break you," he tells you in a voice as hard as the coldest steel. "On your knees."</p>
<p>The two Purge Troopers press strongly on your shoulders to force you to kneel on the floor. The Grand Inquisitor stands in front of you with clippers in his hand. It's going to start all over again – the terrible apprehension, the fear, and then the punishment. You know what he's going to do. He said it.</p>
<p>First, the humiliation. And humiliated you are as you watch the strands of your long hair fall one by one on the metal floor along with your burning tears of shame. Shearing is the mark of traitors.</p>
<p>Then, the suffering. Your screams break the usual quietness of the fortress as you're subjected to a series of blows, electric shocks, burns and other scarifications. It's as if your bones and skin were burning with the heat of a thousand suns. You feel as if your whole body is a gaping, bloody wound. You beg the Grand Inquisitor to stop – just as you begged him to stop five years ago. But this time your pleas are useless – simply because there's nothing more to get from you.</p>
<p>Finally, the break. No matter how hard you try to hold on to the last glimmer of reason that still lingers in the depths of your soul like you cling to the branches of a tree during a storm, the storm is the strongest. The branches shirk from your fingers, and you feel your mind slipping away for good. You sink into insanity so deep that you feel like you're drowning in it.</p>
<p>Madness has conquered your soul.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For those who are interested, I can't help but make a little history point – I was a history teacher until last year (as was the teacher who was murdered last week for those who are aware of French news). <br/>Did you know it? At the end of World War II, women who were accused of having had a relationship with Nazis were considered to be traitors and were sheared. Shearing was the mark of traitors. These women served as scapegoats and catharsis for part of French opinion, while men remained protected from this purge. Once again, it was the women who paid the high price.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"He stares at you, looking right into your eyes. His eyes remain focused on yours. For a brief moment there are just the two of you, balancing on the edge of the universe. There's no one and nothing left but you two."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to all the readers. You’re the cheese on my macaroni.</p>
<p>I thank melrosethecat for the beta-reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Drip.</p>
<p>Drop.</p>
<p>Drip.</p>
<p>Drop.</p>
<p>You listen to the drops of water falling one by one on the bare rock and resounding in a crystalline sound up to the ceiling of the cave in which you find yourself. You listen to the echo of the drops playing an immemorial symphony in the vast emptiness of the darkness that surrounds you. You listen to this dissonant yet terribly harmonious melody that caresses your ears and tries to make its way to your heart in an attempt to move it.</p>
<p>But you feel no emotion listening to this score played by nature. Nothing can disturb the regular beating of your heart, nor the quiet rhythm of your breathing.</p>
<p>In times gone by, full of calm and serenity, you would probably have taken the time to meditate in this cave, sitting on the floor, skimming the cold gray rock with your fingertips, closing your eyes to better focus on the darkness vibrating with energy and the Force rippling through the vast void of the surrounding space, feeling every patch of life, from the smallest bat to the tiniest blade of grass, from the thinnest root to the slightest insect.</p>
<p>A week ago, full of rage and boldness, you would have focused on your emotions, your heart beating frantically, your breath quickening at the thought of a good hunt and a good fight to come.</p>
<p>Today, there's nothing left. Nothing but cold, humid, almost stale air. Nothing but darkness and waiting. Waiting for your prey.</p>
<p>You have no choice. If you want to live, you have to bring Cal Kestis back with you – dead or alive. A proof of your renewed loyalty to the Empire.</p>
<p>You hear the sound of his boots resonating with a hollow sound long before you see him appear – it must be said that it's completely dark. He lights up with his lightsaber to spot the crevices in the ground so that he doesn't fall into a deep hole. The blue blade looks scarlet red through the optical lenses of your helmet – red like his blood you're planning to spill today. You don't know why, but you felt, you <em>knew</em> he was going to come back here, on Zeffo.</p>
<p>Too focused on his feet, he walks straight towards you without seeing you. He moves forward almost like a blind man, groping the ground with the tips of his soles before taking a step. It's true that it's exceptionally dark in this cave, and the light from his lightsaber is probably not enough to allow him to see more than two feet in front of him. You can see him very well thanks to the night vision device with which your helmet is fitted. In the past, you would have smiled mockingly when you saw him walking in such a clumsy and uncertain manner. But not anymore.</p>
<p>It's only when he sees the tips of your shiny black boots that he freezes. Slowly, he raises his head, his gaze running along your uniform, only to find himself face to face with your helmet whose only lenses gleam with an ominous red glow in the dark. You see him swallow hard – his body language screams his fear.</p>
<p>You say nothing. Neither does he.</p>
<p>It's only when you unclip your lightsaber from your belt that he reacts, as if he becomes aware of what's happening. He opens both palms of his hands facing you and knocks you to the ground with a Force push before he runs for his life and rushes into the wide tunnel behind you.</p>
<p>You have to admit that you're surprised. You thought the blinding darkness would prevent him from taking that risk, but he took it anyway. It seems that his fear of you is greater than his fear of falling into a crevasse. Good for you. A frightened prey is most inclined to make mistakes.</p>
<p>You stretch your head to one side and then to the other to crack the bones in your neck before starting to chase after him. You've the advantage of seeing better than he does – you'll catch up with him without difficulty. You can hear the sound of his boots pounding the ground. You can't see him yet, but he's not far away.</p>
<p>Ah! That's it! You can see him. Kriff! He's approaching an exit. But you're faster than him. When you run out of the cave, dazzled for a moment by the cold blinding light from outside, he's only five steps ahead of you.</p>
<p>The hunt continues on the rocky, rugged ground of the Zeffo snow-capped mountains that tower around you, only witnesses to your relentless race. The distance between you is gradually shrinking.</p>
<p>Five steps. Four steps. Three steps.</p>
<p>The end of the path is a cul-de-sac. That doesn't stop him. He jumps up to cling to the stone wall and starts climbing it. The rock is friable, and pieces of granite come off under his feet. It's a dangerous maneuver he's attempting here. It proves how desperate he is.</p>
<p>You've nothing to lose and you too start climbing the unstable wall. The stones slip under your fingers and you almost fall twice, but you still make it to the top – just like him.</p>
<p>When you stand up to rush after him again, you notice that he has stopped. He's stuck.</p>
<p>You're standing on a rocky platform covered with a thick layer of snow from which emerge a few sparse tufts of grass. Several tens of feet high, you overhang the surroundings. Around you there's only the void –- a fall would almost definitely be fatal.</p>
<p>He has no choice: he has to fight. He takes out his lightsaber but doesn't ignite it.</p>
<p>A deathly silence reigns, disturbed only by the howling of the violent gusts of icy wind that seem to want to send you to the bottom of the cliff. Without saying anything, you take your helmet in your hands and take it off, before throwing it into the snow. You want him to look you straight in the eye when you kill him.</p>
<p>You notice that his eyes widen when he sees your face. You don't know what it looks like, but you can feel the cold air caressing your bald head and tingling the wide gash that crosses your nose, stretching from ear to ear.</p>
<p>He stares at you, looking right into your eyes. His eyes remain focused on yours. For a brief moment there are just the two of you, balancing on the edge of the universe. There's no one and nothing left but you two.</p>
<p>You're the first to break the silence with your usual cheerful tone.</p>
<p>"Hi Foxy. Happy to see me again?"</p>
<p>He's still staring at you, without saying anything. You feel that he's uncomfortable. You begin to smile with pleasure at his discomfort, and you run your hand over your bare head.</p>
<p>"Do you like my new style? You know, I owe it to you."</p>
<p>He still doesn't say anything. Your smirk widens more.</p>
<p>"What the matter, Foxy? What's going on? Has the loth-cat got your tongue?"</p>
<p>You burst into a bloody cold laugh. His eyes still on you, his lips finally open.</p>
<p>"Why?" he whispers with a confused and horrified look.</p>
<p>Frankly, you sometimes wonder how he managed to survive on his own for so long – he's so naive and stupid. You turn your face slightly, your hand cupped against your ear to pretend you heard it wrong.</p>
<p>"Huh? What did you say, Foxy? Can you say it again? I didn't hear with that fucking wind."</p>
<p>He's silent again, clenching his lips, as if he refuses to react to your mocking and provocative attitude.</p>
<p>"Okay, fine. I'll play your game, since you don't want to play mine. You asked 'why'? Well, it's simple. 'Because'. Because it's you. Because it's me. So, you still haven't understood that our fates are linked?"</p>
<p>He answers you in a strangled voice, as if his throat refuses to let out the words formulated by his brain.</p>
<p>"I hate you."</p>
<p>"I know."</p>
<p>You keep smiling, but it's a fake smile now. You know he hates you. You've known it from day one, from that moment when your eyes first met, freezing time for an infinitesimal moment. And that's what you wanted, right? You wanted him to hate you. Because anger and hate are the shortest path to the dark side. You've succeeded. You've reached your goal. So why, dammit, why do you feel like that? Why do you feel like something wavers inside you? It's as if there's, well-hidden deep inside your black, dirty soul, a small, hot flame, and that this small flame flickers one last time before being brutally extinguished by a gust of cold wind.</p>
<p>Your smile suddenly fades away, and you look at him seriously, shaking your head. Your voice is full of contempt and confidence – your contempt for him, your confidence in yourself.</p>
<p>"It's over, Foxy. To think that our story is going to end where it began! And you know it can only end one way. From now on, it's you or me."</p>
<p>He's like fire, his red hair dancing like a flame in the wind. And like fire, he's dangerous. That's why you must eliminate him as soon as possible because you know that otherwise he'll burn your soul and leave nothing but ashes.</p>
<p>You ignite both blades of your lightsaber. They shine with a red, bloody glow. This time it's not about playing with him anymore.</p>
<p>"Ready for a last dance?"</p>
<p>He too ignites his lightsaber. In his eyes, you can see that he has understood. It's a fight to the death.</p>
<p>Your two lightsabers begin their last dance. This is the last time you hear the humming of your two blades that slice through the air. This is the last time you feel throughout your body the vibrations of your two lightsabers colliding in a shower of purple sparks.</p>
<p>He resists your attacks, again and again. Anger starts to grow inside you. How dare he stand in front of you? How dare he resist you? How dare he still hold on to hope when there's no hope anymore? He doesn't have the right!</p>
<p>Your blows are more and more powerful, more and more violent. You feel fury and madness taking over.</p>
<p>In a fit of rage, you unleash a storm of blows, and his lightsaber slips from his hands. Without giving him time to pick it up, you throw his weapon into the void with a mere Force push. He's disarmed. You could get over with here, now, immediately. All that's needed is just a blow. But that's not how you want things to be.</p>
<p>With a defiant look, you send your own lightsaber to join his in the void.</p>
<p>You said it, this is the end. It's between you and him. It's a hand-to-hand struggle from now on like two ferocious animals fighting each other – fox versus wildcat. A struggle where your only weapons are your fists and your feet. Your fight is no longer civilized.</p>
<p>Full of fever and frenzy, you throw yourself at him with a beastly scream. You no longer have any humanity. You're just a killing machine. You only want one thing now: to smash his pretty face in, to make him suffer, to kill him with your hands.</p>
<p>You knock him to the ground and sit astride his chest. Melted snow soaks the fabric of your pants, but you don't care. You let your rage erupt and violently punch him in the face.</p>
<p>Right. You hate him.</p>
<p>Left. You hate him.</p>
<p>Right. You hate him!</p>
<p>Left. You hate him!</p>
<p>With each blow, his head is crushed into the muddy snow. His throat filled with blood, he utters a choked scream. He can't breathe. He tries to push you away with his hands, digging his nails deep into your face like sharp claws lacerating your cheeks. But that doesn't stop you. You keep hitting him, making his cheekbones and jaw bone crack, nicking his skin.</p>
<p>You feel the dark side raging around you, like the storm sweeping across the cliff on which you're standing. You feel the dark side pulsating within you, like a sinister red glow. You also feel that, driven by despair and fear of death, he's trying to cling onto it too. He tries to use the dark side. But you're more powerful than he is in the mysteries of the dark arts.</p>
<p>Suddenly, he manages to grab your hand that's about to strike again, and he savagely digs his teeth into it. Bad luck for you, it's your left hand – the real one. His fangs pierce the thick leather of your gloves and sink into your flesh. You cry out in pain and suddenly move backwards. Son of a schutta!</p>
<p>He takes the opportunity to stretch out his hand towards you. You feel your throat tightening, your breath shortening. You see his fingers tensing, gradually closing into a ball as he slowly chokes you. That's it; he cracked. Full of hatred and despair, he resorted to the dark side again. You forget the pain, and you smile victoriously.</p>
<p>You don't know if it's seeing your arrogant smile or if it's being tired and weakened, but he suddenly releases his grasp. On all fours, he spits with difficulty the blood that fills his throat and mouth, speckling the white snow with a myriad of scarlet spots, and he sputters as he tries to catch his breath.</p>
<p>You don't have time to rejoice in the rather considerable amount of blood – his blood – that now smears the ground. You take advantage of the fact that he's still disoriented to throw yourself at him again, tackling him to the ground one more time. This time, no more blows. You put both hands around his neck and start squeezing.</p>
<p>You squeeze as hard as you can. You squeeze with all your anger. With all your hatred. With all your despair.</p>
<p>"Cal! Why, Cal?! Why didn't you accept my offer?! Why did you have to be so upright and stubborn? Between the two of us, nothing could have stopped us. We would have been powerful! We would have been free! But you had to ruin everything. You always ruin everything!"</p>
<p>Your cries of fury are like reproaches that you address to him, but also to you. Tears begin to trace two trails in the dirt and sweat that cover your cheeks, dripping one by one on his bloody face. Your eyes are so fogged up that you can't see him anymore. You don't even know if he's still alive, or if he's already dead. But your brain has lost control of your mind. Carried away by madness, you keep squeezing and crying. You're mad at him. You're so mad at him. It's all his fault!</p>
<p>Suddenly, you feel the two palms of his hands gently pressing against your belly. Surprised, you loosen your grip for a moment. He looks at you sadly and whispers in an almost inaudible voice.</p>
<p>"Sorry."</p>
<p>You don't have time to understand his words or what's going on. A surge of Force hits you right in the stomach and sends you flying through the air, tipping you over the edge of the cliff.</p>
<p>The fall seems both very short and endless.</p>
<p>You violently crash on the granite in a crack of bone and cartilage.</p>
<p>Lying on the cold, hard ground, you feel the blood that gradually forms like a warm cushion under your bare head. You can't move. You look at the sky whitened by the clouds. It's starting to snow. The soft, icy flakes that fall on your face melt upon contact with your burning skin and slowly slide down your cheeks – unless they're tears.</p>
<p>It's over. He won. You don't know why, but part of you is relieved at that thought.</p>
<p>You close your eyes and exhale a last breath, before being swallowed up by the voracious darkness.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Initially, I had the whole story written in my head up to this chapter. I had planned a final chapter to close the story, not knowing what I was going to tell in it or how it was going to end. Then I started to write the rest, and, without knowing how, I found myself at chapter 10. I think there will be eleven chapters – maybe twelve, but no more. And I still don't know how it's going to end.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"You hate them. You hate them all. The Jedi for teaching you hope, the Empire for taking it from you, and Cal for trying to give it back to you. Why did that damn redhead extend his hand to you? Even after everything you've done to him, he continues to extend his hand to you. Of course, you gave him hope too – hope that he could bring you back to the light side. But it was only to take it back from him when he would realize what you really are – a monster."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, I have absolutely no idea where I'm going with this story. All I can say is that we're completely changing the style – no more Jedi hunting. I hope you like it anyway.</p><p>And thanks again. You’re the whipped cream on my ice cream.</p><p>I thank melrosethecat for the beta-reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That's it. You did it. After all these obstacles in your way, after all these difficulties, after all these ordeals, you did it. You sink your back into the thick, soft backrest of your throne, looking proudly and haughtily at the Grand Inquisitor kneeling before you, his head bowed. You can't even measure the pleasure you feel at this moment, seeing your former torturer in this unfortunate situation.</p><p>Without saying anything you snap your fingers. Like a slave eager to obey his Hutt master, a Purge Trooper approaches. You stretch out your fingers towards the Pau'an who looks up at you with frightened eyes. But before he has had time to utter the slightest cry, the black soldier's vibroblade falls on his neck, sharply cutting it off. The gray head falls to the ground and rolls towards you. You put your foot on it, looking one last time into the glassy eyes of the Inquisitor, before crushing it under your boot in a disgusting and sickening crack of bone.</p><p>You disdainfully wipe off the viscous remains stuck to your sole on the sumptuous blue carpet that adorns the floor before turning your gaze to the Sixth and Eighth Brothers, the only survivors of the Inquisitorius, kneeling before you in a sign of submission. You don't trust them. You know that they too will end up betraying you. However, you keep them alive for now, while they serve as an example to the rest of your army. Once the soldiers have all understood that they're only dogs that owe you absolute loyalty, you will ask Cal to discreetly eliminate them.</p><p>You look at the young man standing next to you with his hands folded behind his back, his eyes staring straight ahead, his face totally inexpressive. You have to admit that the black Empire outfit fits him like a glove – it particularly highlights his red hair.</p><p>Definitely, he really is your greatest achievement. You display him like a trophy, a symbol of your victory.</p><p>When he finally joined you on the dark side, you couldn't believe it. But since then, nothing could stop you. Between the two of you, you overthrew the Inquisitorius, killed Vader and put an end to the reign of the Emperor. From now on, you both reign over the entire galaxy. Or rather, <em>you</em> reign over the galaxy – Cal is only one of your subordinates, the most loyal of all.</p><p>Tired, you signal to the people in the room to come out. They all comply immediately, leaving you alone at last. You close your eyes and sigh with contentment, losing yourself comfortably in your thoughts. When you open your eyes, you notice Cal's presence. He's still here. He hasn't moved an inch despite your command.</p><p>Slightly upset, you stand up to face him, but his gaze goes through you as if you were invisible. You frown and take his chin in your hand, forcing him to turn his head to the left and then to the right. He still doesn't react. He's like a puppet in your hand. Like a broken toy. But what's the point of a toy with which you can no longer play? That's not what you wanted. You wanted to break him, yes, but not that much! Now he's no use to you anymore. He's not even funny anymore!</p><p>Suddenly, a searing pain pierces your skull and a humming resounds in your ears. You put your hand to your forehead and close your eyes for a moment – or do you open them?</p><p>It's pitch black. Ah, no, there's some light. Where's your throne? Where's the blue carpet? Where have your soldiers gone? The humming is still there – so is the pain.</p><p>You straighten up suddenly, but you can't manage to hold back a grunt of pain. Kriff! You feel like a Gamorrean rock band is playing drums in your skull – no, wait, your skull <em>is</em> the drums!</p><p>Shaking your head in the hope of getting the Gamorreans to leave to make room for your intelligence, you try to figure out what happened. You try to gather your thoughts scattered to the four winds.</p><p>Zeffo. Cal. The fight. The fall.</p><p>You should be dead, but obviously you're not – not yet – because you doubt that's what hell looks like.</p><p>You run your hand over your cheeks, feeling the scratch marks and the wide gash that crosses your face, and then over your aching skull. You feel a thick patch stuck on the back of your head where it hit the ground when you fell, and you feel—</p><p>You feel hair.</p><p>Not very long, but still hair. How long were you unconscious? And by the way, where exactly are you?</p><p>You can't see much, but you can hear very well. You try to analyze the sounds around you to figure out where you are. The humming is that of a ship's engine, you're sure of it. Not an Imperial fighter, no. Something bigger. You also hear footsteps resonating above you on a metal floor, and you hear raised voices. You're not alone. You don't understand what they're saying, but you distinguish two different voices, one male and one female. No, three voices – there are two women.</p><p>Suddenly, a door opens in a shrill hissing, and a shape stands out before the white light from outside. They enter and press a switch on the wall before closing the door behind them.</p><p>You're dazzled for a moment by the bright white light that has just sprang from the ceiling before your eyes adapt to the new lightness. You immediately recognize the newcomer's red hair. Your worst enemy, your favorite adversary. You understand that you're on his ship, and that the other voices you have heard are probably those of his crewmates.</p><p>"You're awake," he notes.</p><p>Wow. How insightful.</p><p>You decide not to say anything. You don't want to give him that pleasure.</p><p>You take advantage of the light to quickly analyze the place, in order to prepare for your future escape – because no doubt, you're going to get out of here as soon as their backs are turned. The walls are covered with old yellow paint that's crumbling. The furnishings are Spartan. In addition to the uncomfortable bunk on which you're sitting, there's only a small table and a chair – both made of wood – placed in a corner of the room. At the top left, a ventilation shaft allowed the air to renew in the room. Under the vent, a second door probably leads to a refresher. And that's all. Ah, yes, there's a big metal pipe running along the wall, at ground level – a strong chain strapped to your ankle links you to it.</p><p>Cal grabs the chair and sits in it back to front, one leg on either side of the seat, his two forearms nonchalantly crossed on the backrest. He seems confident – too confident. You don't like that.</p><p>You only now notice his face still swollen in places; some wounds still covered by patches – it has to be said that you didn't hold your punches back.</p><p>You keep on withdrawing into your silence. He just sits there watching you, without saying anything either.</p><p>It's like a game, like a silent fight to see which one of you will crack first. You don't like to feel his gaze on you. It makes you uncomfortable, you don't know why. Sitting on the edge of the bunk, you sink your toes into the soles of your boots, as if anchoring yourself in the ground could give you the strength to resist his probing gaze. But you fail to do so. You wriggle, you swing back and forth, and then you finally give in.</p><p>"How long?"</p><p>He won at his silly and childish little game. It pisses you off.</p><p>"Two weeks."</p><p>Ouch. Bad news. After all this time, Vader and the Grand Inquisitor have surely accused you of high treason against the Empire. You probably have a nice little bounty on your head, and all the Inquisitorius on your back. You're definitely screwed.</p><p>But there's another question that eats away at you. A question you don't want to ask, but you're dying to know the answer.</p><p>"Why did you save me?"</p><p>Cal looks at you, runs his hand through his thick hair, and lets out a long sigh before answering.</p><p>"Honestly, I don't know. After everything you did, you didn't deserve it. I should have left you there. Finish you off. Or even let you slowly bleed to death."</p><p>He hasn't lost his sharp tongue, nor his good manners. What does he believe? That you're going to throw yourself at his feet and thank him? No way! You'd rather kiss a Hutt! He would never have had the courage to kill you anyway. He wouldn't dare to finish off a defenseless enemy – he's too kind and stupid to do that.</p><p>You can't help but provoke him. You want to see him angry – that's how you prefer him.</p><p>"So go ahead! Come on! Be brave! Get it over with right now! Kill me here and now! After all, I'm unarmed. It'll be easy!"</p><p>Behind your provocation, there's also the hope that he really does it. As soon as you get off this ship, the whole Empire will be after you. And you know, having been a part of it, that you can't easily elude the Inquisitorius – much less Vader. You're doomed anyway. Might as well get it over with quickly.</p><p>However, Cal shakes his head.</p><p>"No, [Y/N]. I won't."</p><p>He refuses to kill an Inquisitor? The monster who has made so many people suffer, including himself? What a dumbass!</p><p>"I'm a Jedi. I vowed to protect no matter what."</p><p>He's crazy – crazier than you. Or completely stupid. You blow up suddenly.</p><p>"Protect? But protect what?! There's nothing left to protect!" You hear yourself screaming, knowing full well that you're losing your cool. "And don't tell me you're planning to raise an army of Younglings with your fucking holocron!"</p><p>He lowers his eyes to the ground before looking at you again.</p><p>"I destroyed the holocron. I know that I could never have protected those children. But there's still one last thing I can defend. Hope."</p><p>You burst out with a nervous and bitter laugh. Yes, that's it, he's a dumbass!</p><p>Flabbergasted, he watches you laugh like a madwoman. When you finally stop laughing, you look him straight in the eye, convinced that you know what you're going to see in it – pity and mercy, as usual. But once again, he surprises you and unsettles you.</p><p>No pity, no mercy in his eyes. All you see is a strange and indecipherable expression.</p><p>Finally, he gets up and heads for the exit. Just before going out, he stops for a short moment to look at you, as if he wanted to say something else, then he changes his mind, sighs and suddenly turns around.</p><p>As soon as the door closes behind him, you stand up and look for the best way to escape from this flying prison. Your choices are quickly limited by the short length of the chain that holds you captive. The pipe to which it's fastened is far too thick and strong for you to break it. And even if you could, you couldn't get out of the room. The door is locked from the outside with a code lock, the ventilation shaft is too narrow for you to sneak in it, same with the refresher – yes, you've even considered this option – and the wooden table and chair are too fragile to serve you in any way.</p><p>No, really, you have to admit it, you're stuck in that cell. In any case, even if you managed to get out of this ship you probably wouldn't get very far. The Empire always finds those who betray it. After all, you may be safer here than anywhere else in that damn galaxy.</p><p>Frustrated, you lie back on your bunk. You try to get some sleep, but Cal's words turn in your head like an unstoppable maelstrom.</p><p>You hate them. You hate them all. The Jedi for teaching you hope, the Empire for taking it from you, and Cal for trying to give it back to you. Why did that damn redhead extend his hand to you? Even after everything you've done to him, he continues to extend his hand to you. Of course, you gave him hope too – hope that he could bring you back to the light side. But it was only to take it back from him when he would realize what you really are – a monster. But instead, he clung desperately to that hope, and continued to believe that he could 'save' you. Save you! Bah! What a pathetic kid, full of mawkishness and good intentions. No one can save you – after all you've done, you don't deserve it. And you don't want to be saved anyway.</p><p>Suddenly, you hear a commotion in the hallway. The door to your room opens abruptly, letting in a little gray alien – a Latero – obviously very angry, followed by two human women, an older one with dark skin and black hair and a younger one with gray hair and a white tattooed face – probably the two women you heard earlier – and Cal.</p><p>"Kriff kid! What were you thinking? You brought an Inquisitor on my ship. You brought a damn Inquisitor on my ship!"</p><p>Apparently, the redhead had hidden your presence on board from the captain. The two humans, on the other hand, don't seem surprised to see you on board – they must have known about you. The three of them look at you strangely. You have the uneasy feeling of being a curious beast locked up in a zoo in front of impudent visitors.</p><p>"I take care of it, Greez. It's my problem."</p><p>Cal stands beside you, facing them, with his hands raised in front of his chest, as if he were getting between you and the three onlookers. You're a little surprised, but you do everything you can not to show it. You must keep your composure, not show your weaknesses to the enemy.</p><p>"It may be <em>your</em> problem, but it's <em>my</em> ship!" the Latero exclaims, pointing an accusatory finger at Cal.</p><p>Half-hidden behind Cal, you take advantage of the fact that he can't see your face – otherwise he'd probably reprimand you – to address a smirk to the alien, conspicuously revealing all your teeth. You see his gray face tinting pink, proof that your attempt to piss him off has borne fruit.</p><p>The two women come to Cal's rescue and take the Latero by the shoulders to push him gently but firmly towards the exit. Under duress he leaves, grumbling a series of insults against you and Cal.</p><p>Once he's alone with you, Cal looks at you with an apologetic look on his face.</p><p>"I'm sorry. Greez is sometimes a bit..."</p><p>Sitting on your bunk, you lean your back against the wall and stretch your legs out in front of you with a nonchalant look.</p><p>"Stubborn? He reminds me of a certain Jedi," you answer with a touch of impudence.</p><p>Cal sighs and tries to hide the faint smile on his lips. He runs his hand through his hair again – you notice he does this every time he's embarrassed and doesn't know what to say.</p><p>"You have a point. But I promise you he's nice – when he wants to be."</p><p>"I don't care. Anyway, I'll be out of here soon."</p><p>You can see in his eyes that he highly doubts it, but he doesn't say anything.</p><p>"Well, I leave you, I have an offended Latero to calm down. I have a feeling it's going to be more complicated than defeating a certain Inquisitor."</p><p>You can't hold back a muffled little laugh as he opens the door to get out, leaving you alone with yourself again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"We make plans, we work hard to make them come true, confident that we are in control of our future. And sometimes a short moment, a simple word, a single glance, a trivial gesture is enough to change the course of our destiny, irremediably altering our future. Ever since you met Cal, your life has been a succession of such moments, sending you tossing you from one end of the thread of your fate to the other."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I thank melrosethecat for the beta-reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's decided. There's no way you're staying another minute on this ship. You have to find a way to get out of here quickly. So much the worse for the Empire that's probably waiting for you when you get out – it'll be still better than rotting in this tiny cell.</p>
<p>You've been here for just over a day and already you're pacing up and down like a caged Nexu. You've never really been free, but at least you could move around freely when you were an Inquisitor. Now you're nothing more than a fugitive prisoner of her sworn foe.</p>
<p>You take time to think. Since there's nothing in this room that can allow you to escape, you need to find outside help. You know that Cal won't let you leave, however, perhaps you can convince one of his mates to do so. But which one to choose?</p>
<p>You sit cross-legged, hands on your knees, and you slowly exhale to try to concentrate. You project your mind into the ship in search of the various crew members.</p>
<p>First you find one of the two humans – the older one – sitting in her cabin playing music. She's calm, relaxed. You feel the Force slithering around her, like a snake trying to enter the burrow of a mouse without being able to find a single opening. She's hermetic to the Force, as if she refuses its contact. Intrigued, you go deeper into your analysis. Ah! You understand why. You feel it, that little black glow in the depths of her heart. She has used the dark side, and she's now struggling against it, cutting herself off from both darkness and light. Interesting, but not very helpful for you.</p>
<p>You then turn your mind to the second human. She's sleeping on her bed. She, too, is surrounded by the Force. But unlike the other human, the waves of the Force go through her vibrating with a strange energy. You feel the dark side in her. It's powerful but perfectly controlled. You've never felt this before, even among the ranks of the Inquisitorius. You frown before you remember one of your old classes when you were still a Padawan. You were mistaken to think she was human. She's a Dathomirian – a Nightsister. You thought they were all extinct, but apparently Cal managed to find one still alive – he definitely has a knack for surrounding himself with unexpected allies. Like the other woman, she'll be of no use to you – she's too powerful in the Force for you to hope to manipulate her.</p>
<p>So, you have only one option left: the Latero. Your mind finds him cooking. You feel his heart filled with negative emotions. He's offended. He feels betrayed. He's furious that Cal hid your presence on his ship from him. He's afraid of you. You suck your lips for a moment. Perfect. He'll be perfect for your plan. All you have to do is make contact with him and—</p>
<p>Suddenly, you hear the door of your cell open with a squeak. You open your eyes and stretch indolently to hide what you were doing from your jailer who enters the room with a small metal box under his arm. He must not suspect what you were doing.</p>
<p>"Hi Foxy! Tell the chef that my steak was overcooked yesterday evening. I felt like I was eating tough old boots."</p>
<p>He ignores your joke and puts the box on the little wooden table without saying anything. You recognize the slightly rusty lid of a medkit.</p>
<p>"Turn around," he orders rather sharply before softening up. "I've come to change your bandage."</p>
<p>You obey, sitting at the end of your bed and turning the back of your head towards him. Why? Why did you obey him without thinking or arguing?</p>
<p>He sits right behind you, and you feel his warm breath against your neck while his cool fingertips brush your skin. You shiver at their touch. He smells like caf and droid oil.</p>
<p>He removes the blood-soaked bandage very gently, but you can't help but wince in pain when you feel the fabric peeling off your skin with difficulty. You can feel the cold air in the room tingling the wound now uncovered. You reach your hand towards the wound, but Cal gives you a little slap on the wrist.</p>
<p>"No, no, no! Don't touch it! The wound is still too fresh, you might reopen it."</p>
<p>You hear him rummaging around in the box, and then you hear the characteristic plop of the opening of a bottle while the fresh smell of bacta comes to tickle your nostrils. A few seconds later, you feel a piece of damp cloth softly brushing the back of your head.</p>
<p>"How does it look?"</p>
<p>You're not really worried about the scar you're probably going to have for the rest of your life, but you're curious. Moreover, you don't like the silence that took hold between you. It seems reluctant to answer you – you think you hear a sigh.</p>
<p>"Well, you have a big, bald rectangle at the back of your head. I'm sorry to tell you it's not very pretty."</p>
<p>"Meh," you snort in a light-hearted tone. "I'm sure I'm going to launch a new trend. All the stormtroopers will soon have the same hairstyle."</p>
<p>You don't see his face, but you hear him stifle a small laugh. He laughed at your joke. You don't know why, but it makes you smile.</p>
<p>"In that case, it's a good thing they wear helmets. I would have trouble concentrating if I had to fight such fashion addicts."</p>
<p>This time you're the one who giggles.</p>
<p>Cal ends up sticking a clean patch on your wound. You turn back to him just in time to see the bottle of bacta and a piece of bloody cloth disappear into the box. You refuse to thank him. You're too proud for that.</p>
<p>He gets up to leave, but once again he stops at the door.</p>
<p>"You know, I've a name."</p>
<p>"I know, Foxy."</p>
<p>You can almost swear he smiled – you're not sure.</p>
<p>"I'll be back to change your bandage tomorrow."</p>
<p>Tomorrow? Tomorrow you won't be here.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>In the end you were here the following day. And the day after. It took a total of three days for the Latero to finally find the courage to visit you, allowing you at the same time to put your plan into operation.</p>
<p>When you recognize the little gray alien who comes into your room with a tray in his hand, you're more than delighted. At last, you can move into action.</p>
<p>He puts your meal tray on the table, staring at you nervously. You give him a warm smile, making him even more nervous.</p>
<p>"What?" he asks, switching his weight from one foot to the other. "What's the matter? Do I have some lettuce stuck in my teeth?"</p>
<p>Your smile widens further, slightly uncovering your upper teeth.</p>
<p>"Oh, no, no," you reply in a calm and friendly tone. "I just wanna thank you for everything you've done for me. Welcoming me in your ship, feeding me... Not many people would have done this for their former enemy." You insist on the word <em>former</em>, almost over-emphasizing the two syllables.</p>
<p>You see the alien's tense face relax slightly. He scratches the back of his head as if he were embarrassed.</p>
<p>"Cal had told me that his mates were true friends. I didn't believe it, but I've to admit that he was right. That's why I wanted to thank you. Sincerely."</p>
<p>"Oh, well, I—"</p>
<p>That's it. That idiot let his guard down. It was easier than you thought. Now is the time to take advantage of it. You go all-in and reach out your hand to him.</p>
<p>
  <em>"You're going to free me immediately from my chains."</em>
</p>
<p>The Latero looks at you with a dazed blink, like an owl waking up in broad daylight. For a brief moment, you think that your little trick didn't work. Then suddenly he answers you in a blank voice.</p>
<p>
  <em>"I'm going to free you immediately from your chains."</em>
</p>
<p>Your eyes light up with joy when you hear those words about which you've dreamed every second that has elapsed since you woke up on that damn ship.</p>
<p>The Latero heads towards you, bends down, and you feel the shackle that held your ankle captive slip to the ground.</p>
<p>
  <em>"Now go away and close the door without locking it. And don't tell anyone."</em>
</p>
<p>The alien obeys you, turning to the door and whispering.</p>
<p>
  <em>"I go away without locking the door, and I don't tell anyone."</em>
</p>
<p>As the door closes, you lie down on your bed with a victorious smile on your lips. That's it, for sure. Tonight, you make your getaway.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>You couldn't sleep, too excited that you were at the idea of finally leaving that blasted ship. You listen to the crew members heading one by one to their quarters. You wait a moment – an eternity, it seems – until you don't hear any more noise. You're absolutely sure that they're now all deeply asleep.</p>
<p>Without further ado, you stand up and silently rush to the door. It's still open. You push it as slowly as possible to prevent it from squeaking and alerting someone.</p>
<p>It's dark in the hallway. All the lights are off, except for the emergency exit lights – that's normal, they're all sleeping. You follow the lights, trying not to make any noise. It's not very difficult because the hum of the old engine drowns out the sound of your footsteps. You have to find the escape pods. They're your ticket out of here.</p>
<p>When you reach the end of the hallway, an unpleasant surprise awaits you. There are no escape pods. Or rather there were, but they're now gone. Kriff! How are you going to get out of here?</p>
<p>"Small problem?"</p>
<p>You abruptly turn to the voice that sprang of the darkness behind you, only to find yourself face to face with Cal.</p>
<p>"I knew that Greez didn't look normal today."</p>
<p>You don't give him time to react. You raise your left leg and sink your foot into his belly, knocking him to the ground. He rolls backwards and stabilizes on the floor before raising his head. You see the surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by anger. An anger entirely aimed at you.</p>
<p>He gets back on his feet, and you greet him with a punch in the stomach. Breathlessly, he still manages to grab you by the wrists. You struggle, and both of you fall to the ground with a thud. On all fours above you, he still keeps the pressure on your wrists, preventing you from pushing him away. You feel him shaking with anger. You feel the sweatiness of his palms on your wrists. You feel the dark side pulsating around him, filling the air with its vibrations. You know he's going to use it.</p>
<p>"Please [Y/N], don't make me hurt you."</p>
<p>There's almost like a supplication in his voice. You suddenly freeze. You know you're no match for him – not yet. You're still too weak, and this time he has help from the dark side. You relax all your muscles, showing that you're giving up this losing battle.</p>
<p>Cal stands up and doesn't offer you a hand to help you straighten up. You get back on your feet, and he pushes you before him through the hallway, leading you to your cell.</p>
<p>You blink, dazzled, when he turns on the light in your room. With an abrupt gesture, he pushes you towards the bed. You sit on it without saying anything while he stoops down beside you to seal the shackle on your ankle. Back to square one.</p>
<p>However, instead of going out as you expected, he closes the door, sits facing you on the wooden chair, and settles himself against the backrest, legs stretched out in front of him and hands in his pockets.</p>
<p>You prepare yourself, waiting for his rage to crash on you. You wait for his attack, but it doesn't come and you wonder why. Maybe he's thinking about the punishment he's going to give you? Maybe he feels that the shame of being caught is enough? Whatever the reason, he remains silent.</p>
<p>You're mad at him. His quiet muteness adds embers to the already burning fire of your rage. You'd love to sink your teeth in his throat to watch him bleed to death. Your plan would have been perfect if it hadn't been for those damn escape pods – and if it hadn't been for that damn Jedi fox. You rant and rave inwardly, ready to hurl the worst cruel things in his face when you meet his gaze. That green, indecipherable gaze.</p>
<p>And suddenly you understand.</p>
<p>You had noticed something different about him on Bogano, but you hadn't been able to tell what. Now you see it. It's this sadness that constantly glazes his gaze. Cal Kestis is broken. As broken as you are. And you're the one who broke him.</p>
<p>The embers of your rage are instantly reduced to ashes blown by the icy wind of his gaze. You swallow all the nasty words that were on the tip of your tongue. You no longer know what to say. You no longer know what you <em>want</em> to say.</p>
<p>You take your eyes away from each other and stay for a moment face to face, without uttering a single word, looking stupidly at your feet. The air is as if charged with static electricity. The silence between you is almost deafening.</p>
<p>It's you who breaks this silence first.</p>
<p>"What are you going to do?"</p>
<p>He doesn't answer. His silence is so deep that you could hear your words bouncing on the metal walls of your cell. Then he finally speaks.</p>
<p>"It's all your fault," he says in a voice as cold and deep as the silence into which your question had fallen. "Since that damned day on your ship, when I... I..." His voice quavers, and he stops to take a deep breath as if to try to regain control of the emotions that overwhelm him. "I was foolish to think you could change. Deep down, you're still the worst egoist I know."</p>
<p>You stifle a little mocking laugh.</p>
<p>"So what, Foxy? You thought that you could change me? That your goodness and kindness would bring me back to the light side? I'm not like your friend. I've gone too far on the dark side path. Even if I were to turn back, the way ahead is too long. What were you expecting?"</p>
<p>He looks at you with a sorry look on his face and runs his hand through his hair – that damn habit again.</p>
<p>"I don't know. I still had hope for you. I'm disappointed."</p>
<p>This time you can't hold back a burst of laughter.</p>
<p>"Well, failed. I told you before, I'm not a good girl. I'll always be a heartless monster rotten to the core. And you, Foxy, will always be a naive idiot."</p>
<p>Your words are like venomous poison, but your eyes tell a different story. Deep down inside, you have to admit it, his words are like salt on an open wound. But the disappointment you see in his eyes is even more painful than his words.</p>
<p>"Maybe you're right," he says, standing up and shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe some people can't be changed."</p>
<p>He stops for a moment with his hand on the door.</p>
<p>"I wish I could have."</p>
<p>He turns off the light and goes out, leaving you alone in the dark. Bitter and disappointed, you lie down on your bed. At the very moment you start to breath in, filling your lungs with air to let out a deep sigh, you smell it. That scent of caf and droid oil softly hanging in the air, like a reminiscence of his now vanished presence.</p>
<p>We make plans, we work hard to make them come true, confident that we are in control of our future. And sometimes a short moment, a simple word, a single glance, a trivial gesture is enough to change the course of our destiny, irremediably altering our future. Ever since you met Cal, your life has been a succession of such moments, sending you tossing you from one end of the thread of your fate to the other. All your plans have been shattered. You know that you no longer control anything – nor where you are, nor who you are. And yet you keep following that thread that ceaselessly brings you back to him.</p>
<p>To that damn fox.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am sorry for all this. I don't think this chapter is very good, but despite my best efforts I didn't manage to improve it, so... I’m sorry. You're the mayonnaise with my fries.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Time seems to be suspended. You look alternately at the two men framing you and offering you their hand – your first master on your left, your last master on your right. Jedi versus Sith. Light side versus dark side. Past versus present.</p>
<p>There always comes a time when you have to choose.</p>
<p>But you've never liked to play by the rules."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for your kind comments. You're the chocolate in my cookies.</p>
<p>I thank melrosethecat for the beta-reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Patience. Calm. Serenity. Peace."</p>
<p>"Patience. Calm. Serenity. Peace."</p>
<p>Kneeling, eyes closed, you faithfully repeat every word of your master like the studious and obedient Padawan that you are. His warm, deep voice softly caresses your ears like a comforting melody. You exhale your impatience and inhale serenity. You can feel one by one each atom of oxygen gently entering your nostrils, sliding down your throat, and slowly filling your lungs. Each breath brings you one step closer to inner peace. At this moment you feel good – calm, soothed.</p>
<p>Once all emotion has been banished from your heart, you slowly open your eyes, letting the soft, clear light that bathes your face penetrate between your lashes. Gradually, you lift your eyelids to face your master.</p>
<p>He hasn't changed since the last time you saw him. The same smile, the same bright eyes, the same blood staining his clothes.</p>
<p>Suddenly, you hear the sound of a mechanical breath behind you and feel all your hair standing on end. You get back on your feet without saying anything and turn slightly towards Vader.</p>
<p>Time seems to be suspended. You look alternately at the two men framing you and offering you their hand – your first master on your left, your last master on your right. Jedi versus Sith. Light side versus dark side. Past versus present.</p>
<p>There always comes a time when you have to choose.</p>
<p>But you've never liked to play by the rules. You spread your arms, palms open in front of your two masters, and, channeling the Force into your two hands, you abruptly throw them backwards. The two men fly like wisps of straw, disappearing into the darkness that surrounds you – or is it light? You stand alone while the Force roars like a silent storm, threatening to take you with it. But you hold on.</p>
<p>You've never liked to choose. But from now on you won't let anyone choose for you. Not even the Force.</p>
<p>Light and darkness clash around you. You don't know if it's day or night anymore. Dazzled by the darkness, you blink frantically.</p>
<p>You're awake.</p>
<p>You look around you at the now familiar setting of your cell. You don't know what time it is – is it evening or morning? Probably morning, considering the sound of footsteps above your head and the tray on the table.</p>
<p>Like every day, you get up unthinkingly to pick up the bowl from the tray, and you go to the refresher to empty its contents. You flush the toilet, and, hypnotized, you watch the whirlpool of water greedily gobble up the porridge. You're not hungry. You haven't eaten anything in days, and you're still not hungry. It's as if your body and mind don't want to fight anymore. What's the point?</p>
<p>When you raise your head, you meet the look of your reflection in the mirror on the wall. Two intense yellow eyes look at you, surrounded by dark rings and sunken in an emaciated face with a sallow complexion. Your hair is still short and tousled, standing up on your head in all directions like wild grass. An ugly, swollen, red scar crosses your face entirely, like the horizon line separates the sky from the earth. Not to mention your body covered with a multitude of old scars, most of them dating back to the Purge.</p>
<p>You don't know if you were pretty before. You hope you were. Not that you ever attached any importance to it – you never cared about your looks, even when you were still a Jedi. But you're now as ugly on the outside as you are on the inside. You don't care anyway; you don't have anyone by whom you want to be liked – right?</p>
<p>You lower your head before you come out of the refresher and go back to your room. You put the bowl back on the tray and go back to lying on your bunk. You close your eyes and wait.</p>
<p>Time goes slowly, very slowly, too slowly. Seconds seem like minutes, minutes like hours. Like an hourglass whose grains of sand would be too big to flow through its thin neck.</p>
<p>You wait.</p>
<p>You spend your days waiting. It's not like you have anything else to do. Nothing happens, and only the daily procession of the trays reminds you of the passing of time. The few moments when you shake out of the deep boredom in which you're bogged down are the moments when he comes to see you. But he hasn't come for several days now.</p>
<p>You wait.</p>
<p>The door opens. You don't even look at who it is. The tray disappears. It's replaced by another one.</p>
<p>You wait.</p>
<p>You wait for what? The end maybe. But the end of what? You don't even know.</p>
<p>You wait.</p>
<p>You hear the door opening and closing again, and the sound of his boots on the floor. You just lie there and keep your eyes closed. As usual, he grabs the wooden chair and sits on it facing you. You don't move an inch. Time passes. You don't know how long he stays there. Maybe a minute. Maybe an hour. It doesn't matter.</p>
<p>"Why did you save me if it's to keep me locked up?"</p>
<p>You're surprised to hear this question cross your lips without even thinking about it.</p>
<p>"I don't know. I…"</p>
<p>You feel hesitation in his voice, as if he didn't dare to tell you the truth. However, he manages to keep his composure and carry on.</p>
<p>"Remember what you told me about Kashyyyk? That there was something between us?"</p>
<p>"Mhm."</p>
<p>"Sometimes I think <em>maybe</em> you were right."</p>
<p>You suddenly open your eyes. Well, you didn't expect that. You straighten up before you pivot on your buttocks and sit on the edge of your bunk to stare at him intensely.</p>
<p>"You really think so?"</p>
<p>"Have I ever lied to you?"</p>
<p>No. No, it's true, he never lied to you. You don't know if you should thank him for that, or if his flawless honesty makes you want to puke.</p>
<p>"You know," he says softly. "If you would agree to behave better, help us and not be an enemy, I would let you out of here."</p>
<p>"Don't make promises you can't keep."</p>
<p>"I just told you, I've never lied to you."</p>
<p>It's a trap, you're sure. You know he wants to sneak into the well-guarded fortress of your soul to try to bring you back to the light. But you won't let him get you, no!</p>
<p>To avoid answering him, you feign to be absorbed in the contemplation of the peeling paint on the wall.</p>
<p>With no reply from you, Cal stands up with a sigh and is about to leave when his eyes fall on the intact contents of the tray on the table. He frowns, and then looks at you before moving briskly towards you.</p>
<p>He enters abruptly into your personal space. By reflex, you move back sharply, but the back of your head hits the wall behind you with a thud. Stunned, you don't dare to move, and you stare at his face almost glued to yours. He's so close that you can feel his warm breath in your half-opened mouth and count the freckles that cover his skin. So many freckles. You swallow hard and blink. Your brain crashes completely.</p>
<p>You keep looking straight ahead while his face slides down your body. You feel his fingers running along your arms and the tip of his nose brushing against the fabric that covers your chest and belly. Is it just you, or is it suddenly very hot in this room? The blood rushes so quickly to your cheeks that you wonder why it doesn't come out of your mouth wide open in stupor. You realize at that moment that you've completely stopped breathing.</p>
<p>Then he straightens up and moves backwards shaking his head, popping the bubble of this weird, awkward moment.</p>
<p>"You've lost weight. You should eat a little. I don't know how long it's been since you ate something, but you look really terrible. Starving yourself to death isn't a solution. And... I don't want you to... Anyway, you should eat."</p>
<p>You can see a real concern in his eyes. He turns around to take a piece of bread from the tray. Not yet having regained your composure, you accept the piece of bread without thinking. He doesn't leave you a choice anyway. You feel his gaze on you as you bite into the crust, slightly dry from waiting. You slowly chew the elastic crumb before swallowing the bite of bread with difficulty. You stifle a gag, as if your body were refusing this imposed food, but you keep eating, bite after bite, until there are only crumbs left in the corner of your lips.</p>
<p>Satisfied, Cal nods his head and leaves the room, freeing you at last from his heavy probing gaze.</p>
<p>You tuck your knees into your chest as if to protect yourself from you-don't-know-what. He succeeded. You eventually obeyed him. You hate him. So why do you feel like that when he looks at you – as if your soul laid bare? He's everything you hate – Jedi, kind, upright, benevolent. So why the fuck do you feel attracted to him like a moth to the flame of a candle?</p>
<p>Once again, you're completely lost.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>You don't know what woke you up first. The muffled sound of the laser cannons or the violent tremors that shook the whole ship, almost making you fall off the bunk on which you were sleeping. You hear rushing footsteps and shouts which you can only catch in sparse snatches. "Attacked", "Empire", "hurry up".</p>
<p>So then, they found you. That doesn't surprise you – you even expected them to do it sooner than that. They’re running all over the place above you. Shots resound. The ship is regularly shaken with brutal jolts. Time flies by while you're torn between the length of the wait and the frustration of not being able to take part in the fun. You don't know how it's going to end, but it might as well be in style.</p>
<p>Suddenly, frenzy gives way to calm, noise to silence. You're still alive. You don't know if you're glad or disappointed.</p>
<p>It's only after several hours that you finally hear the door of your cell open. Lying on your bed, you're offended that he didn't come sooner.</p>
<p>"I'm still in one piece. But thank you for your concern, Foxy," you say in a light-hearted tone without even bothering to look at him.</p>
<p>"It was the Empire."</p>
<p>He really has the knack of stating the obvious.</p>
<p>"Wow. Unbelievable."</p>
<p>"You already knew it, didn't you?"</p>
<p>You're fed up with his rhetorical questions.</p>
<p>"It wasn't hard to guess. The whole Empire dreams of catching us."</p>
<p>"<em>Us</em>?"</p>
<p>Dank farrik. You'd hoped he wouldn't have noticed, but nothing gets past him. He really would have made a good Inquisitor.</p>
<p>"How's it going?"</p>
<p>Answer a question with another question. This is the best way to avoid answering it. And you <em>really</em> don't want to answer his question – not now, not ever.</p>
<p>He runs his hand through his hair. You hold back the smile that struggles to appear on your face.</p>
<p>"We managed to jump into hyperspace, but the ship caught hell. We're going to need to find a place to do some repairs."</p>
<p>You bite your lower lip and then suck your teeth while you think quickly. You don't want to help them, but you don't want to stay locked in here forever either.</p>
<p>"Well, ok, Foxy Boy. I agree to help you. But in return you let me out of here. I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine."</p>
<p>You can see in his eyes that he's torn between mistrust and the desire to trust you. He finally lets out a long sigh.</p>
<p>"Alright. What do you need?"</p>
<p>"Access to our current coordinates and a star map."</p>
<p>"That can be arranged. But no dirty tricks. At the first attempt at treason, I'll kill you."</p>
<p>You know he would.</p>
<p>He comes up to you to remove the ankle restraint and nods to you to come with him. As you walk out into the hallway, you take a deep breath as if the air is better outside than inside your cell – which is absolutely not the case. You follow Cal to a ladder and hang on to the rungs to climb to the top.</p>
<p>This is the first time you've ever stepped on the upper floor. The crew quarters are clearly more comfortable than your cramped cell, although painted in the same hideous yellow. You arrive in a common room where there is a holotable surrounded by the other crew members. They all look at you with a mixture of surprise and apprehension.</p>
<p>"What's she doing here?" asks the Latero in a high-pitched voice while pointing a finger at you.</p>
<p>"Calm down, I'm here to save your asses," you reply with a smirk. "Unless you'd rather end up in a resounding explosion after the Empire gets hold on you."</p>
<p>"That's true," adds Cal, coming to your rescue. "She said she'd help."</p>
<p>Without waiting to be invited, you start typing on the holotable's keyboard. The dark-haired human is about to make a remark, but she closes her mouth in the face of Cal's meaningful gaze.</p>
<p>"We were on our way to Saleucami," he says to help you.</p>
<p>Saleucami. Okay. So that means you're in the Outer Rim and not far from the Hutt Space.</p>
<p>You keep on tapping the keyboard, going through the planets in the area one after the other until you come across the one you're looking for.</p>
<p>"Ahah! There it is! Samarka!" you declare victoriously, proudly pointing at the pale-yellow globe lazily spinning on itself on the holotable screen. "An uninteresting dusty rock lost far from the major hyperspace routes."</p>
<p>"Right in the middle of the Hutt Space," adds the black-haired woman as she reads the data on the screen. "At least the Empire will leave us in peace for a while – they're avoiding messing with the Hutts right now. And I note the presence of a few settlements that will allow us to resupply while we wait for repairs to be completed."</p>
<p>She looks at you nodding her head.</p>
<p>"It seems like a good choice," she admits before turning to her mates.</p>
<p>You hear them talking in a low voice, making the decision to take you back to your cell while waiting to see if your help is a trap. You drag your feet in the hallway that leads back to your room, enjoying that last moment of freedom. As he leaves you, Cal turns his head towards you. He says nothing, but his eyes thank you. Then the door closes behind him.</p>
<p>You notice that he didn't chain you back to the wall. You let yourself slide down the door, slumping to the floor. You bring your knees to your chest, before you get lost in your thoughts.</p>
<p>The hissing of the door wakes you out of your sleep – you don't even remember falling asleep – only a millisecond before the metal gives way behind your back, causing you to fall backwards into the hallway with a thud. Lying on the floor, you see Cal's head above you.</p>
<p>"Alright. The others said you could come out."</p>
<p>You stand up hastily, ready to enjoy the freedom that has just been granted to you. Just before letting you go, Cal grabs you by the wrist.</p>
<p>"Please behave yourself. I don't want to have to throw you out of the ship's airlock when we're in the middle of the hyperspace."</p>
<p>You doubt it's possible, but you know you're not in a position to negotiate anything – not for now anyway. You shrug with disdain.</p>
<p>"If it makes you happy, Foxy. I'll give it a try."</p>
<p>"I want you to promise."</p>
<p>You sigh. What a kid.</p>
<p>"Okay, alright. I <em>promise</em> I'll try to behave myself."</p>
<p>You don't care. Promises are made to be broken anyway.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>You sigh loudly, hoping to break the calm and monotony that reigns in the ship. However, none of the people in the common room turn their heads towards you.</p>
<p>You're bored. You thought at first that your new freedom would make a difference, but it's clear that being in or out of your room doesn't change anything.</p>
<p>Since your arrival on Samarka, you've ventured outside only once to see the total lack of interest of this desert planet. The golden sand dunes and the muddy oasis with palm trees shriveled by the scorching heat near which you landed have caused you nothing but indifference. As for the idea of running away, you quickly dismissed it when you saw in the distance the flat, parched expanse covered with a multitude of cracks, like thirsty mouths open to the sky waiting for rain that will never come.</p>
<p>You're better inside the ship. At least there's air con.</p>
<p>You settle yourself comfortably on the padded sofa before carelessly putting your boots on the caf table in front of you. You notice the sneaky, disapproving glance of the Latero seated at the other end of the sofa. He doesn't dare say anything for fear of reprisals, but you feel him ranting inside. You pick up a cookery magazine from the table and pretend to bury your nose in it, actually continuing to surreptitiously look at the grumpy alien over the line of dog-eared pages. A fun idea comes to your mind – you have to kill time, don't you?</p>
<p>You stick your little finger in your left nostril, roundly picking your nose in front of the now appalled alien. You pull out your finger and stare at the tip, before flicking the imaginary booger stuck to it, sending it to fly across the room. A grimace of disgust appears on the Latero's gray face. Proud of yourself, you resume your fake reading while keeping on pretending to ignore him. You've found a new punching bag to spend the time.</p>
<p>You promised Cal that you would try to behave yourself. Not that you were going to make it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We are nearing the end. The next chapter will be the last one. Even good stories come to an end!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"You look at the Mantis' ramp slowly lowering, breathing greedily the hot, dry air that rushes into the ship bringing with it the smells of the desert – the smell of the wind in the dunes, the scent of Samarkan tamarisks and junipers. You watch the heat waves flooding over the cracked earth like an ironic parody of the water for which it seems thirsty. You look with envy at the sandy expanse strewed with a few tufts of dry grass and lonely shriveled trees, symbols of the freedom of which you aspire with each new second that passes."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Aaaaand… this is the last chapter! I hope you will enjoy it! Thank you to everyone who has read and keeps reading. I would have liked to say that you’re the sugar in my coffee, but I don't drink coffee. So, you’re the sugar in my chai latte.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Kriff! Who finished the caf supply?" exclaims the Latero, waving his lower pair of arms with an angry face while he looks desperately at the inside of an empty metal jar, as if he hopes it would magically refill.</p>
<p>You completely ignore him, even though you can see he's looking in your direction. That said, there's no one but you in the common room. You can therefore be the one and only culprit in his eyes, especially since you're currently sitting at the table, rhythmically tapping your nails against the hot, steaming mug that you're holding in your hands with the sole purpose of creating an unbearable clicking sound.</p>
<p>You don't answer his question, and you stare at him with a cheeky look while bringing the mug to your mouth. You take the time to smell the delicious, bittersweet scent that escapes from it before slowly opening your lips and carefully taking a burning sip of the beverage it contains – actually tea, but you don't want to disabuse the Latero.</p>
<p>Pissing off the little alien has become your favorite hobby – your only hobby when Cal isn't around. So far, he's always holding himself back from exploding with anger – you scare him too much. However, you feel like you might reach your goal today.</p>
<p>You swallow the sip with an intent noise, and then you deliberately let out a sigh of satisfaction.</p>
<p>"Damn it! I'm sick and tired of her! She's just a useless parasite!"</p>
<p>You don't know to whom he's talking – probably himself – but you see him pull out a kitchen knife. You smile mockingly at this ridiculous threat. As if he could do you any harm with that pathetic toothpick!</p>
<p>Your smile is like fuel on the fire. The little Latero blows up suddenly, shouting out a whole series of insults towards you.</p>
<p>But you don't hear him. The only thing you hear is the sound of Cal's boots resonating on the metal floor of the ship just before he emerges running out of the hallway behind you. Once again, he gets between you and your opponent. Hidden behind his back, you look triumphantly at the alien and mockingly stick your tongue out at him. You feel that he's still boiling with rage.</p>
<p>"Calm down, Greez," says Cal in a neutral voice, hands outstretched in front of him, palms open. "She hasn't done anything wrong. And you, [Y/N], stop provoking him with your childish grimaces, or I'll cut out your tongue."</p>
<p>Like a child caught in the act, you suddenly withdraw your tongue in your mouth and tighten your lips. How did he know? You're sure he didn't turn his head towards you. He couldn't see what you were doing! And yet, he knows. It's like you can't hide anything from him. He's also the only one who dares to talk to you like that – that's why he's the only one you obey.</p>
<p>"Greez, really..." continues Cal in a conciliatory tone. "I know you don't like to leave your ship, but for everyone's sake I think it would be a good idea for you to go with Cere and Merrin. Plus, you can make sure they don't forget to buy more caf."</p>
<p>The Latero doesn't answer, but he walks away grumbling towards his cabin. Cal looks at you and lets out a sigh – you don't know if it's disappointment at your impertinence or relief at having defused the bomb you'd just set off. He runs a hand through his hair and sits down at the table. Angry that he has put an end to your little game, you stand up and scowl at him before going to sulk on the sofa.</p>
<p>With your arms folded, you don't notice the return of the rest of the crew. It's the squeaking of the door opening that makes you come out of your sulk.</p>
<p>You look at the <em>Mantis'</em> ramp slowly lowering, breathing greedily the hot, dry air that rushes into the ship bringing with it the smells of the desert – the smell of the wind in the dunes, the scent of Samarkan tamarisks and junipers. You watch the heat waves flooding over the cracked earth like an ironic parody of the water for which it seems thirsty. You look with envy at the sandy expanse strewed with a few tufts of dry grass and lonely shriveled trees, symbols of the freedom of which you aspire with each new second that passes. You watch with obvious and unconcealed jealousy towards Cal's mates walking down the ramp to tread the dusty ground of Samarka, going in search for many and varied supplies in the nearest town. Even the droid, usually inseparable from Cal, accompanies them, as if he, too, would prefer to avoid your presence.</p>
<p>It was agreed yesterday that Cal would stay with you to keep a close eye on you. They don't want you to take advantage of this opportunity to run out on them, even though they know that you wouldn't get very far alone on this dry, dusty rock.</p>
<p>When the door finally closes with a metallic thud, you find yourself alone with your red-haired jailer in the cold and confined space of that bloody ship.</p>
<p>Still sitting at the table, Cal invites you with a wave of his hand to come and eat with him. You join him by conspicuously dragging your feet before slumping heavily on a chair and giving him a scornful glance.</p>
<p>"You should eat a little."</p>
<p>He wants to make sure that you won't let yourself starve again. Why doesn't he mind his own damn business?</p>
<p>"Yes dad," you answer in the tone of an insolent teenager.</p>
<p>"You're really childish."</p>
<p>You glare at him with a look full of the irrational rage that seizes people against those who utter an unpleasant truth. You don't like when he's right. You don't like when he looks at you like that, with that confident look on his face. You want to take him in your arms and... and... squeeze him until he suffocates.</p>
<p>You put your elbow on the table and rest your chin on your right hand before you sigh loudly and take your fork with your other hand to stick it in a piece of veg-meat. But instead of bringing your fork to your mouth, you absent-mindedly look at your catch and squeeze your fingers on the handle, pressing the thin piece of metal almost painfully into your palm.</p>
<p>Absorbed by the contemplation of the insipid piece of synthetic meat, your mind begins to wander, focusing on the sounds around you. The tired blast of the old air conditioner operating at full capacity to refresh – excessively – the atmosphere of the ship. The regular plop of water drops that escape one by one from the improperly turned off faucet of the sink to your right. The slow chewing of Cal eating a piece of rubbery veg-meat. The cracking of your knuckles as your phalanxes tighten on your fork. All these sounds fill your ears, resonate in your head to excess – the blast of the air conditioner, the dripping of water, the chewing of Cal, the cracking of your knuckles, the blast, the dripping, the chewing, the cracking, whoosh, plop, chomp, crack, whoosh, plop, chomp, cr—</p>
<p>You explode abruptly. You can't take it anymore. You can't put up with all that anymore: the confinement, the peacefulness, the pretending – pretending to be calm, pretending to be normal. You throw your fork in Cal's face with all your might in the hope that it will blind him in the eye, but his instincts save him once again. He narrowly avoids the projectile that's flying at him and whose teeth are going to stick into the wall behind him.</p>
<p>Your anger keeps swelling like a wave on the stormy sea. You have completely lost your grip; you can no longer control your mind. The glasses tinkle and shatter, the plates fly through the air, and the terrarium glass explodes into a thousand pieces.</p>
<p>Faced with your unleashed rage, Cal doesn't get flustered. Impassive, he grabs you by the collar, and your buttocks painfully hit the ground when he knocks you off your chair. He drags you towards the hallway, but you're totally blind to what's going on. There's nothing but your anger, your fury, and your rage.</p>
<p>Suddenly, you feel an icy spray of water splashing on your head and back. You come to and stand up with difficulty, trying to catch your breath in a hiccup before you start coughing as the water flows into your eyes and mouth. Nearly collapsing, you stagger against the walls of the shower into which Cal has just thrown you.</p>
<p>As you slide on the wet tiled floor, Cal comes to help you, but you push him away violently. You fall on your buttocks and stare at him for a moment, dazed. Then you let out a sob and start crying like a baby.</p>
<p>Surprised, Cal turns off the water and kneels down in front of you. He doesn't seem to know what to do, disconcerted once again by your sudden change in behavior. You bury your face against his chest and keep sobbing stupidly.</p>
<p>"I'm begging you Cal, let me out, let me out of here! I can't take it anymore! I'm going crazy – crazier than I already am. Please, let me go!"</p>
<p>He hugs you, fondles your hair, and rocks you like a child. You hang on tightly to him and cry for a long time, until little by little, the steady, soothing caress of his hand and the soft whisper of his voice calm your sobs.</p>
<p>Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you suddenly realize that you're in his arms. Blushing, you abruptly move away from him. He, too, seems embarrassed, uncomfortable, and he lets you go very quickly.</p>
<p>Your clothes soaked in ice water stick to your body. You shiver with cold. Cal stares at the refresher tile as if he doesn't dare to look you in the eye.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry [Y/N]. I'm really sorry, but I can't. I can't let you go."</p>
<p>You burst into a hysterical laugh choked with tears. Your laughter turns into anger again – anger tinged with despair.</p>
<p>"Why?" you scream while hitting his chest with your fists. "Why?! You're just an obnoxious, heartless bastard! I hate you! I fucking hate you!"</p>
<p>You grab him by the collar of his poncho and pull him abruptly towards you. Your two mouths collide brutally, and you kiss him like a drowning person desperately trying to get air into their lungs. This time it's no longer one of your cruel games like on your ship, but a real call for help.</p>
<p>And Cal answers your call. He answers to your kiss, and your two tongues passionately interlace. You spread your thighs and wrap your legs around his hips. He gets up and lifts you up as if you were as light as a feather before walking out into the hallway. You keep kissing him voraciously and clinging to him like a castaway cling to a wooden board.</p>
<p>He drops you on a hard surface – you recognize his bunk – and kneels between your legs. Seated half under him, you pull his poncho up to quickly remove it before you take off your wet shirt. As you're blinded by the fabric sliding over your head, you feel his hands groping on your back to undo your bra strap.</p>
<p>Now half-naked, you feel the cold air brushing against your skin, freezing it even more than it already is. Despite this, you continue and get to grips with his belt. Your frozen fingers are shaking so much that you can't manage to undo the buckle. Cal puts his hands on yours to help you. They're warm, but they feel scorching hot against your icy skin. You notice only now that he has taken off his breast plate and his top.</p>
<p>When you finally manage to remove that damn belt, he suddenly stands up and grabs you by the ankles before pulling on your boots and pants to take them off, making you roll on your back. You don't let yourself be pushed around, and you straighten up to grab him by the wrists.</p>
<p>As in your past fights, you struggle for a short while. You manage to make him fall, and you tackle him to the ground with a thud before straddling him, sitting on his hips. But this time it's not to try to kill him.</p>
<p>"You're sure?" he asks you softly.</p>
<p>Yes, you're sure! Of course, you're sure! You've never really been in control of your actions and thoughts these past five years, but for the first time in a long time you're sure. You're fed up with his silly questions!</p>
<p>You run your hand through his fiery hair – that damn red hair that haunts your nights – and you proudly stare at him before sinking into the depths of his green eyes that defiantly pierce you.</p>
<p>It's at this very moment that he makes you completely lose your grip. You lose all notion of time and space around you. You feel nothing but cold. The cold of the air emitted by the air con, the cold of your frozen skin, the cold of your soul completely lost and alone. Irrepressible shivers running down your spine.</p>
<p>And suddenly, you feel Cal straighten up and embrace you while you're still sitting on him. You feel his hot hands running over every inch of your back and hips. You feel his warm, wet kisses on your chest and shoulders. You feel the tip of his nose brushing against your neck. Your whole body is tense, shivering, and you desperately dig your nails into his shoulders. Your bodies undulate together as waves of Force mixed with pleasure run through them. You feel a gentle warmth penetrating between your thighs, filling your body and warming your soul.</p>
<p>At last. At last, you are one. At last, you feel complete. At last, you feel soothed and serene. At last, you feel free.</p>
<p>When you come to, you're lying against Cal's back on the floor of his room. You lie still for a moment, dizzy, slowly counting the freckles that cover the pale skin of his shoulders.</p>
<p>Finally, he gets up to put his clothes back on. You feel his warm body separating from yours, his sweaty skin detaching from yours, and immediately the cold insidiously returns to take possession of you, and with it that painful feeling of loneliness.</p>
<p>Cal sits on his bunk, but you don't look at him. You turn your back to him and curl up on the floor, bringing your knees up against your chest and holding yourself in your own arms. You don't want to meet his gaze. Not after what just happened.</p>
<p>He sighs.</p>
<p>"Okay," he finally lets out. "We can't go on like this. I agree to let you go."</p>
<p>His soft voice is like a soothing balm spread over your distressed soul. You can feel in his voice that he's reluctant. You know he doesn't want to let you go. But despite that, he agrees to grant your request. He puts your feelings before his own.</p>
<p>"We have to hurry before the others get back. I'll wait for you at the door."</p>
<p>Once again, he has rekindled the flame of hope in your heart. Without missing a beat, you also stand up and get dressed in a hurry. After a short hesitation, you head to the workbench at the back of the room and rummage through the jumble of electronic circuits and equipment of all kinds before you find what you're looking for. You shove the two small metal objects in your pocket and rush into the hallway behind you.</p>
<p>When you get to the common room, Cal's waiting for you. The ramp is lowered, and the arid heat from outside enters the ship, warming the cold recirculated air. He hands you a small leather bag. You open it and discover inside your lightsaber, a ration pack, a canteen of water, and some credits. Enough to ensure you a way out of this backwater.</p>
<p>"You can come with me if you want."</p>
<p>Words have slipped out of your mouth without you even intending to say them. You're a loner – you always have been. You don't like the company of others. But he's different. You know you're smart, but you're not wise. You are too impulsive; your tongue is too caustic. You speak and act before you think. Cal is wise enough for two. If he came with you, he would guide you, and you could hope to survive.</p>
<p>He shakes his head with an apologetic look.</p>
<p>"You could stay with me if you want."</p>
<p>Respond to your offer with a counter-offer. He really sucks. You're disappointed that he refuses your offer, even though you knew he would. Who would want the company of a completely crazy ex-Inquisitor?</p>
<p>"I can't. I told you, I'm not a good girl," you answer him seriously.</p>
<p>"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not a good boy either," he replies with the same seriousness.</p>
<p>"Then maybe we're more alike than you think."</p>
<p>You approach him to kiss him one last time on the cheek, and you take the opportunity to slip a small object into his hand. You don't even dare to look him in the eye while a last, almost inaudible whisper crosses the barrier of your lips.</p>
<p>"Thank you Cal. I—"</p>
<p>"I know," he cuts you off gently.</p>
<p>Then you rush out, hurtling down the metal ramp to land in the warm, golden sand. You raise your hand before your eyes, dazzled for a brief moment by the blazing light of Samarka's sun, and then you rush towards freedom, without a backward glance.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay. I may have lied when I wrote that this was the last chapter. I might be writing an epilogue. Not a real chapter, but a kind of conclusion to that whole story. I hope to publish it soon before I can resume my project on baby Cal and Bracca.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"In the past, you hardly had any notion of change. Change was meaningless to you because your life was changing every day. You constituted the center of your own universe because you were your own universe. You had to be it to survive in the ruthless environment of the Inquisitorius. The death of thousands of people on some planet meant nothing to you. You could have been called selfish even if it wasn't selfishness but simply a matter of survival.</p>
<p>And suddenly, a grain of sand had appeared in your universe. Suddenly, you had sensed what time was, what change was, and what your place in the universe was."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>That's it, this is really the end. In case some people ask for it, I wish to specify right away that I didn’t plan anything else, so you can interpret this end as you wish!<br/>Enjoy!</p>
<p>As always, I thank melrosethecat for the beta-reading.</p>
<p>I also thank all those who have read or left a kudo. I especially thank the people who left me nice, constructive and adorable comments. Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the stars of my sky!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beep.</p>
<p>Beep.</p>
<p>Beep.</p>
<p>The tiny blue point of light flashes at a regular rhythm on the screen of the small flat circular object that Cal holds in his open palm. He's not very far from his target anymore.</p>
<p>He's moving forward on the steep track that winds between the pines. On second thought, he can't even consider it as a track – it looks more like the bed of a dry brook than a real path. The speeder rental agent had warned him. And he was right: this mountain is inaccessible by vehicle. That's why after a few miles Cal had to leave his speeder behind and resort to the good old method of walking.</p>
<p>He has been walking for several hours now, accompanied only by the sound of the wind in the branches and the chirping of birds. As his ascent progresses, the centennial oaks have given way to leafy conifers and the opaque mist of the valley has been gradually dispelled by a radiant sun that he regularly glimpses between the branches.</p>
<p>He stops for a moment to put the transponder in his pocket, and then he brings his hand to his belt to take the canteen attached to it. The water is tepid, but it blissfully soothes his dry throat. He closes the canteen and puts it back in its place before wiping the sweat beading on his forehead with the back of his hand. He takes out the transponder and resumes his long walk.</p>
<p>In his palm the beacon flashes faster and faster while the transponder beeps frantically. Cal is getting closer to his target – his prey he would be tempted to say, even if the thought of finding himself for once in the hunter's shoes makes him smile.</p>
<p>If truth be told, he hasn't stopped being hunted since that fateful day on the Albedo Brave – first by the Clones, then by the Purge troopers, and the Inquisitorius. But it's all over at last – at least that's what he hopes. The fight is over. He has done his share, giving many years of his life in the service of the Rebellion, risking his life in countless missions as diverse as they're varied, watching his friends leave one after another, whether for a well-deserved retirement or in a more tragic way – Cere, Merrin, Greez, Mari, Choyyssyk... He sometimes misses them.</p>
<p>Now the Empire is gone. It's time to make way for a new generation – a new hope. Not that he's very old. But Cal is tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of hiding. Tired of obeying. He yearns for something else now – something he's wanted for a long time, but his morals and ethics have kept him from doing it so far.</p>
<p>"Beep, boop, beep?"</p>
<p>"Ahah, you're right, BD."</p>
<p>BD-1. The only one who remained despite the difficulties and the passage of time. His best friend – his only friend now.</p>
<p>"You and me, till the end, huh?"</p>
<p>Cal swallows hard. When you're the one left behind, it's always hard not to think about the past. About regrets. About those who have gone. However, BD-1 will always be there, Cal is certain of that. With his right hand, he gently pets the head of the little droid perched on his left shoulder and sighs.</p>
<p>"Thanks, buddy. Thanks for always supporting me, even if I haven't always made the right choices – even if I keep not making the right choices."</p>
<p>Suddenly, the trees space apart in front of them, putting an end to the discussion and revealing their target: a few hundred steep feet of exposed stony ground – very useful to see a potential assailant coming from afar – and finally a high rock face hollowed out with a wide opening like a black mouth open towards the inside of the mountain.</p>
<p>Cal approaches as discreetly as possible – he wouldn't want to alert his prey and cause her to flee. It must be said that she's not easy to catch, never staying more than a few days, at best a few weeks, in the same place. But he has to face the facts: there's no one else but him and BD.</p>
<p>He hesitates for a short moment in front of the gaping mouth, and then he takes a last look behind him – still no one in sight – before sinking into the bowels of the mountain.</p>
<p>The cave he enters is brighter and more welcoming than he had expected, even though the furnishings remain spartan – he sees only a rudimentary kitchen, a bed dug into the rock, a table and chairs, and two storage units.</p>
<p>Cal keeps walking in the direction of the flashing light signal on his transponder screen before stopping in front of a metal chest of drawers. There, lying on the cabinet, flashes a transponder identical to his – his twin.</p>
<p>He notices another object lying near the transponder. The hilt of a lightsaber covered with a thin layer of dust. As if it had remained there, forgotten by its owner. Cal reaches out his hand and takes the lightsaber. His thumb hesitantly strokes the activation stud. What will happen when he ignites it? Will the blade that appears be a sinister bloody red or a pure bright white? He doesn't want to know – not for now – and he puts the lightsaber back on the chest of drawers.</p>
<p>Cal scrutinizes the rest of the room for clues that might reveal to him where his prey has gone when he suddenly hears a noise outside. A voice humming a melody. Someone is coming.</p>
<p>The black shape that stands out against the white light of the opening suddenly freezes, as if it had sensed Cal's presence. In spite of the darkness, in spite of the nervousness that tenses the shape, Cal recognizes her immediately.</p>
<p>That's it. At last. He faces his target. The person he's seeking – hunting? – for several weeks now. The person he has wanted to see again for so many years. The person that he – can he call it "love"? No. Definitely no. Maybe. The person who haunts his dreams.</p>
<p>You.</p>
<p>"I'm back," he simply says.</p>
<p>"Welcome home."</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Seated at the entrance of the cave, you admire the forest with its autumn colors that you overlook. The view is really magnificent. A cool breeze heralds the arrival of dusk. You watch the sun chased by the clouds gradually going down on the horizon, setting on fire with its warm light the yellow, orange, and red leaves waved by the wind in the valley. It looks like a huge blaze. Except that this blaze doesn't provide any heat, and you begin to feel cold.</p>
<p>You shiver and settle yourself against Cal's chest who is seated right behind you. His arms tighten around you, wrapping you in gentle warmth – how does he never get cold? It doesn't matter if the hard rock on which you're sitting hurts your buttocks. You feel good in his arms.</p>
<p>You look up at him for a moment. He hasn't changed since the last time you saw him just before you sank your feet in the warm sand of Samarka and ran away from your feelings. Only the small wrinkles in the corner of his eyes show how much time has passed since then. The small wrinkles and—</p>
<p>"I like it," you whisper softly.</p>
<p>"Mhm?" he replies as if he had just come out of a deep daydream.</p>
<p>"Your beard. I like it." You raise your hand and brush with your fingertips the red hairs that cover his chin and cheeks.</p>
<p>He says nothing, but he smiles – that damn smile to which you wouldn't be able to refuse anything. Next to him, curled up against his thigh, his damn droid is purring peacefully. Yes, you wouldn't be able to refuse him anything, not even the presence of his blasted scrap heap.</p>
<p>You look at the horizon again. The sun has now completely disappeared, swallowed up by the clouds that fill the sky.</p>
<p>In the past, you hardly had any notion of change. Change was meaningless to you because your life was changing every day. You constituted the center of your own universe because you <em>were</em> your own universe. You had to be it to survive in the ruthless environment of the Inquisitorius. The death of thousands of people on some planet meant nothing to you. You could have been called selfish even if it wasn't selfishness but simply a matter of survival.</p>
<p>And suddenly, a grain of sand had appeared in your universe. Suddenly, you had sensed what time was, what change was, and what your place in the universe was.</p>
<p>You are no longer the center of the universe. You have now understood that you too are a grain of sand. One grain of sand among billions of others. The suns will continue to shine, the planets will continue to rotate even after your death. No matter the others. No matter yourself. You are just a grain of sand. <em>He</em> is just a grain of sand. So why care? Why attach so much importance to people and choices that will end up drowning in the inexorable course of time anyway?</p>
<p>You don't know what he means to you. He's no longer an enemy. He's not a friend either. Not really a lover. However, he's very probably the person who matters most to you in the galaxy. The only person who matters.</p>
<p>"You're going to leave, aren't you."</p>
<p>It's not a question but an observation, as if to convince yourself of his imminent departure and avoid disappointment.</p>
<p>"No. I won't leave you. Never again."</p>
<p>Damn Jedi. He always knew how to give you hope.</p>
<p>You lower your head to hide the relief that blossoms on your face. You take the time to savor his words and imprint them in your brain. When you regain your composure, you look up again.</p>
<p>You watch the man seated behind you. Illuminated by a furtive ray of sunlight that somehow managed to pierce through the thick layer of cloud, his red hair dances like a flame in the wind. It reminds you of the color of the wild foxes that lived on your home planet.</p>
<p>The foxes of Alderaan.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For you, what color is the blade of our ex-Inquisitor's lightsaber? Red or white (or another color)? Feel free to write your answer in comments, and eventually tell me why you chose this color. I am very curious to know!</p>
<p>And if you like hurt/comfort, don't hesitate to follow me. I'm currently writing a fic about teenage Cal on Bracca. I can already tell you that this poor baby is going to suffer...</p>
<p>Thanks for reading ! I wish you all a Happy New Year!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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